


A Party in a Pear Tree

by lysanatt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Multi, Polyamory, Romance, Silly Christmas fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysanatt/pseuds/lysanatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam knows that Gabriel and Lucifer have been fighting since the creation, so it shouldn't be a surprise that they're fighting over him, even at a time of year when their father has declared glory to himself, on Earth peace and good will towards men. What is surprising, however, is that Gabriel refuses to understand lyrics, that Lucifer refuses to back off, and that the two angels together are more inept at giving Christmas gifts than Dean. Sam? Well, Sam learns that Christmas really <i>is</i> all about love, and more of it than he'd ever thought possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Party in a Pear Tree

**Author's Note:**

> For knotty who wanted 'Salubriel with Gabe and Luci trying to outdo each other with courting gifts'. Not so much a drabble as a full-fledged multichapter fic, but I believe I'll be forgiven.

The music is loud and the door to the bunker is open. Sam reaches into his back pocket for his knife. It's either demons, or Dean's taste in music has changed into the decidedly camp. Sam is very sure that only demonic possession will make Dean like Bette Midler. 'Wind Beneath My Wings mixes with 'Beast of Burden' and Sam _knows_ that voice. It is _so_ not the Divine Miss M; it is highly likely the equally divine Mr G, archangel of the Lord, and currently an endangered species. Very endangered.

"Gabriel, what the hell!" Sam shouts, attempting to be heard over the music. Not possible. Not only because the music is extremely loud, but also because it seems like Heaven and Hell have gathered here to celebrate the holidays, or the lack of them, depending on location. Blaming Gabriel is pure instinct, but probably not wrong. Sam gives up and walks down the stairs, trying to get to Gabriel without having to talk to everybody and their demon; it's the easiest way to make the entire thing go away, forcing Gabriel to snap it all away. 

Sam finds Gabriel and the karaoke behind a large tree that seems to have sprouted from the seat of an upholstered chair. There are heavy, ripe fruits hanging from it. The roots have crushed a few tiles. The branches have probably mixed DNA with King-Kong, for they have spread through the room, providing additional seating for the guests. Sam is not enthused about having Gabriel start an orchard in the bunker, either, but he'll take that before the noisy party. If Gabriel takes the guests, Sam will keep the tree. Everything for some peace and quiet. Tempted, Sam snatches a pear; it smells sugary and ripe, and it melts in his mouth. He eats all of it before his feeble attempts to get Gabriel's attention succeed. They do so mostly because Sam throws the core at him. It hits him on the shoulder, and stops his dreadful impersonation of Miss M. 

"Sam! Baby!" Gabriel looks slightly drunk and very enthusiastic.

"Don't," Sam growls, knife in hand. "What the fuck is this? Where is Dean? Why hasn't he killed you?"

"He hasn't killed me because he's over _there_ , in the corner with Cas." Gabriel points at two people who might or might not be Dean and Castiel. It's hard to see, since they're so caught up in each other that 'kissing' might not cover what they are doing. And it's a party."

"I get that. Why?"

"Because. It's like that Christmas song. I wanted to give you something." Gabriel's close-mouthed smile is positively evil. "To woo."

"What are you talking about? You dragged like twenty demons — God, I hope Crowley is here somewhere to keep them in check — and half of Heaven down here." Sam tries to make sense of Gabriel's nonsense.

"Like the song. _On the first day of Christmas._ It's what you do when you woo, and I'm wooing _you_. On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me. And _I_ am your true love so I'm giving you stuff."

Sam feels very, very tired. He would like to go to sleep right the fuck now. He clings to the hope that this is only a bad dream. "First of all, this isn't the first day of Christmas; it's not until after—"

"Like I'd let something so mundane hold me back! Never, Sammy, will I adhere to such restraints. Nothing is too good for you."

"Right. And secondly, the song is about a partridge and a—"

"Who cares for a partridge? They're boring. No, a party! In a pear tree! See? I went to Eden to get the seed. Now's the right time to thank me for not choosing the apple tree."

Sam is sure he's dreaming. This can't possibly be real. It's out of control, even for Gabriel. Maybe it's Hell? Or hallucinations? Alternate reality? As for Gabriel wooing? When did Gabriel even come to the conclusion that wooing was an option? It's beyond surreal. "Who even woos these days?" Sam asks, confused. He hadn't known that Gabriel was interested, not that he minds, exactly. "And what if I like apples better?"

"Then _I_ am going to provide them," somebody says. "I happen to be very good with apples."

Sam groans. There has to be limits. He has to find Dean. Either they are in one of Gabriel's home made realities, or the entire county has been poisoned through the water supply. There has to be an explanation to the madness.

"Of course there is. Gabriel is of the notion that _he_ is able to win your love." Lucifer doesn't even care to hide that he's been looking into Sam's mind. "He is wrong. You belong to me, Sam, we both know that."

Sam turns around, very slowly. "Lucifer. If you get near my thoughts again, I am going to stab you in the face." Sam stares coldly at Lucifer, who in turn looks as if he's been kicked. God, what is it with angels?

"Here," Lucifer says and offers Sam an apple, still on the branch. It is the apple to end all apples, fragrant and ripe and red, polished to a shine. There's a small snake wrapped around the branch. It looks at Sam with clear black eyes, it's tongue vibrating to catch his scent. "Gabriel has no style."

"I have style," Gabriel insists. "Just not the same as yours, Bro. And you're not winning over Sam with _that_!"

"Hey!" Sam glares at the two angels, apple branch in hand. "I'm right here!" He looks for a proper place to deposit the poor snake. It's a pretty little king snake, shiny and black. Sam puts it in his pocket, vowing to find a nice place for it as soon as he's gotten rid of the unwanted guests.

"I don't hear him argue against the wooing," Lucifer tells Gabriel. "And I am adverse to kill you for the sake of marrying my Sam."

Sam shakes his head. His presence is clearly purely ornamental. 

"Twelve days," Gabriel says. "Let's see who is the better archangel, then. Come Christmas, Sam picks his lover. It is going to be me, but far from discouraging you, Lucy, I'd like to see you lose spectacularly."

"You will have to wait until the end of the world. I will not give up. Sam was made for me," Lucifer argues with such conviction that Sam shivers, a sudden sensation of fear and lust. Lucifer is so damned possessive; it was overwhelming in the cage, but topside he is almost as bad, even now when he is kept in line by Chuck who finally decided to clean up his own mess.

Sam sighs, exasperated. He can't take any more of this. Dean has lost his mind, or whatever it is he loses when Castiel is near, and Gabriel and Lucifer are back to fighting over love and family. Inias and Samandriel are playing Twister with a couple of demons, and Naomi is discussing Descartes with Kevin's ghost. It is all too much. Sam decides to find Crowley. He, at least, will be pleased to be the party-pooper and drag his demons a floor down to a bit of after-party torture. 

As Sam walks the corridor in search of the King of Hell, he feels a deep urge to hit himself when he realizes he is humming Gabriel's messed up version of _A Party in a Pear Tree_.


	2. Two Turtles Dove

When Sam wakes up, he is not sure he's actually awake. At least there is no loud party, which is fine with him. He stays for a while in the state between being asleep and awake, lulled by calm waves, the sun shining warmly. The bed he's lying in big and soft and wonderful. There is some sort of canopy that keeps the bed cool. The thin silk sheets are precisely enough to keep Sam from being too cold or too hot. Sam really doesn't want to be awake. The scent of freshly baked bread and coffee lures him closer to the surface, though. 

"Rise and shine, Sammy!"

 _Oh, fuck!_ Sam groans, turns and hides his face in the pillows.

"Breakfast! Nom-nom!" Gabriel exclaims cheerily. "Eggs, bacon, fruit salad from mangoes and oranges and pineapples, and there is a coconut I just picked, and come on, Sam! I made it for you, all by myself, no cheating!"

"Except I'm not in my bed in the bunker," Sam complains, muffled, refusing to turn over. "That looks like frigging cheating to me. Where am I?"

"On the yacht I got for you."

"What?" Sam sits up so fast the sheets slither off his body and onto the deck. "Yacht?"

"Yeah." Gabriel's smile is all sunshine. " _Aaaand two turtles dove_ ," he sings, making sure the song is forever ruined for Sam. "Okay, not really. But turtle doves are boring. All feathers and no brain."

"A bit like you; more feathers than brain. Not that it ever bothered you, so why am _I_ even bothering? _Where_ are we?" Sam eyes the tray that Gabriel is holding. "Gimme!"

"Since you ask politely." Gabriel surrenders the tray. "We're aboard _The Moose_ , your new 148 tonne Fitzroy sail superyacht. I plan to take you diving, and you needed a boat for that."

"You... bought me a boat? For going swimming in the ocean?" Sam grabs a bowl from the tray; it's a deliciously looking mix of tropical fruits. He can manage that. Or he'd have to kill Gabriel. _The Moose_? "Did you have to?" Sam asks between bites, concentrating on the taste of ripe mango and the sweet taste of pineapple juice. It's real, not the kind of surreal surrealism that is Gabriel's trademark. If Sam didn't like Gabriel so much, he'd hate him. In fact, he does hate him, at little. "What am I going to do with a yacht? I don't even have a car."

"Use it. Sink it. Dress up as a pirate captain and ravish me. Whatever you like. Besides, money really isn't a problem." Gabriel shrugs. "I make them when I need them."

Sam vehemently ignores the pirate cosplay suggestion. "Oh, thanks for that. So you just give me stuff that means nothing to you, because it costs you nothing?"

"Eat." Gabriel pouts and refuses to give Sam a reply.

 _Angels!_ Sam decides that he can manage food, and nothing else. So he eats, trying to enjoy the pleasant weather, the calm rocking of the ocean and the view to a clear blue sky and a coastline of white sand and sparse vegetation. The beach is deserted. "So where are we, exactly," Sam tries again. "A desert island?"

"Hawaii. Kānemilohaʻi. It's a wildlife reserve. I shifted the crew from the wildlife station into a neighboring dimension. "

"How thoughtful of you."

"Do I sense sarcasm, Sammy? It's a nice dimension. It has beaches with free ice cream and drinks. And dodos."

"Dodos? You said Hawaii, not Mauritius."

"Yeah, yeah. It's _one_ continuity error. I was thinking of you at the time."

"Oh, that makes it okay, then."

"I love how grateful you are."

"You are the one wooing. I don't have to be anything."

"Wanna get wet with me? That's something."

"Stop teasing me. I hate you."

"Come on, Sam! I want to show you what I made for you! I meant it; I want to go swimming with you. Turtles! Giant green turtles!" 

Gabriel looks so childishly proud that Sam can't hang on to his annoyance. He even abstains from the comment about certain ninjas with names that should be very familiar to Gabriel. Instead Sam takes a last sip of his coffee and gets out of bed. Thankfully, he is still in his boxers. No knowing that Gabriel would have done with _those_ if he hadn't held back.

Gabriel snaps his fingers and a small bowl with something decidedly slimy and neon green appears in his hand. "Dessert! I made it."

Sam views the green slime with suspicion. "Wow, thanks. You made me... nuclear waste? Kryptonite?"

"Nope, Sammy. We're going diving. It's _Gillyweed_ ," Gabriel declares proudly. "Couldn't conjure it since Dad never made it, so I made it from scratch!"

"Gillyweed?" Sam asks, sending Gabriel an incredulous stare. "As in _Harry Potter, Gillyweed_? The stuff that makes... Harry sprout... gills?" Sam is not sure which is more unlikely: that Gabriel read Harry Potter, or that he actually created Gillyweed because he wanted it to come into existence.

"Precisely! Now eat! There are turtles waiting for us, baby!"

*

Gillyweed isn't half as unpleasant as Sam expected it to be. As soon as he jumps over the railing, taking a leap of faith into the clear, blue sea, it takes him only a few deep, oddly displaced gasps before he is able to breathe properly. Gabriel is next to him, starkers, thumps up, waving him in the direction of a large seaweed patch. They swim slowly, trying not to disturb the inhabitants too much. It doesn't take long before two giant turtles, mature males, pass them, heading for the seaweed. Sam and Gabriel watch them for a while as the majestic creatures eat their fill. Sam does indeed feel grateful for having seen them; at the rate humans ruin Earth, there are few left.

When the turtles head out towards deeper waters, Sam and Gabriel swim along the forest line, encountering a few smaller turtles, impressive still in the way they move, slow and calm and dignified. The seaweed forest is home to a number of species; it's like a small kaleidoscope of vividly-colored fish and strange little slugs with luminescent or translucent bodies. A few seals pass them by, dark shadows over their heads; maybe to rest on the beach of the nearby atoll.

It takes Sam and Gabriel all day to explore the area, the small circle of atolls providing an incredible number of interesting hiding places for fish and other marine lifeforms. They run out of Gillyweed at the exact moment when Sam's stomach rumbles and growls, signaling that it is dinner time, or that it should be.

"Thank you," Sam says when he's dry and dressed in a brand new t-shirt and a pair of loose surfer shorts that Gabriel has created with a snap of his fingers. "For everything." Sam doesn't know what to say apart from that. It's not the yacht, nor is it the immense luxury that surrounds them. No, it's the quietness of the ocean, the giant turtles, the vivid life in a habitat that Sam wouldn't otherwise have seen. The experience of it clings to him, keeping him in a state of awe of Chuck's work. "Lucifer told me once that this," Sam waves with a hand, indicating the entire globe, "was your father's most beautiful creation. I believe it now. So, thank you. For letting me see that."

Gabriel smiles, content, as if he'd known all along that Sam would like it. "No problem. And for once Lucy was right."

"Hm, yeah, I guess. It happens," Sam agrees. "Sometimes it amazes me that he is able to see beauty at all."

"He sees _you_ ," Gabriel says quietly. "Our father created the Earth in his image. He created you, Sam. Lucifer... he would never admit it, but he loves Earth because it has you. The beauty he sees is through your eyes."

Sam stands stunned for seconds, unable to comprehend what Gabriel tells him. "I—"

"Right. Let's not get all maudlin. Dinner!"

Sam can only nod, and in a flash, Gabriel has provided them with a table set with the most delicious dishes; fish right out of the ocean, perfectly fried, and all sorts of vegetables, fruits and nuts and bread and butter — everything that Sam would like, did he have the money for that kind of food. There is a sparkly white wine, too, bubbly and green and spicy. It's all very, very good.

They sit for a while, talking about their day, about the universe and at length about Game of Thrones. They eat and drink until darkness falls. Gabriel lights a few torches, providing the deck with a soft golden light. The stars come out to dance to the slow music of the ever-moving ocean, and for a while, Sam feels as if he's a part of eternity.

He doesn't protest when Gabriel takes his hand and leads him from the chair to the bed. Sam is asleep in five minutes, his head resting on Gabriel's chest, Gabriel's arm around his shoulder.


	3. French - Hence the Location

At least Lucifer doesn't zap them to unknown places while Sam is asleep. Sure speaks in favor of choosing— 

Sam stops himself. He's not forced to choose anyone. Just because two lovesick archangels have decided that they are going to woo, Sam sort of forgot that he can just ask them to fuck off and find someone else to bother. Except... he likes them both, and although he'd be relieved to be rid of them, he's not sure he really want them gone. 

"I am going to take you to France," Lucifer says, holding out his hand for Sam to take. "You have not yet eaten dinner?" Lucifer eyes the empty pizza boxes from yesterday, all of them belonging to Dean. Or Dean's pizza. Whatever.

Sam's hand ends up in Lucifer's, entirely to Sam's surprise. He stares at their hands. Maybe his hand has been cursed? It has a life and mind of its own?

Right. 

Refusing Lucifer is going really well. "No, I... France?" Sam sort of squeezes Lucifer's hand instead of letting go of it. Seeing that the holiday trips to Europe hadn't been high on his father's kid-raising to-do list, Sam feels strangely elated at the thought. "Like in France, Paris, the Eiffel Tower, Louvre?"

"As in 'a delightful dinner in a small château in Languedoc-Roussillon'. I'll have to move us there — if you don't mind."

Sam is sure he's not meant to say no. Like always with Lucifer. He's not sure he wants to, either. "All right."

*

It's a cream-and-white château, tall windows and white shutters, open windows and flowing, light curtains that wave at them in the light, mild breeze. Even now, in December, it's around sixty degrees, cool but not cold. The sun is warm, and the grass still green. It's a beautiful spot, far away from neighbors and roads. "There's a restaurant here?" Sam asks, curious.

"No," Lucifer replies. "I had the chef from _Le Meurice_ , Paris' best three-star Michelin restaurant, drive down here to create something special for us. I did not want to have our conversation stunted by... outsiders."

"And this chef? He's not an outsider?"

"Ask Crowley how the man got three Michelin stars to begin with. No, he's not a bystander. I promised him a fast process, getting upstairs, when his debt to Crowley has been paid in full."

"How... kind. So you're dealing in souls for me? Just wait until your father gets home and hears about it," Sam teases, simply because he's in a good mood, and Lucifer did something nice for once. For others than Sam, that is. 

"My father thinks you have a good influence on me, so I think we'll still be allowed to have a sleep-over," Lucifer teases back, laughter dancing in his eyes. "You are going to stay, aren't you? I want you to stay, Sam."

"A sleep-over? Here?"

"Mm-hm." Lucifer nods and presses his lips together, like he'd say more, but doesn't. 

At least Lucifer asks. Sam is sure that Gabriel would just have dropped him here and refused to throw him back in whatever shabby motel he and Dean had checked in to until morning. Lucifer always ask permission, and it makes Sam want to accept. He wants to stay, not just because Lucifer is polite. There are other reasons than Lucifer's obsession with consent. One of them is that Sam likes Lucifer. He really, _really_ likes Lucifer, and maybe he loves him a little bit if he's to be honest. With Lucifer he's safe and protected, knowing that Lucifer is always on his side, always has his back. 

Then there are the slips, the little quirks that makes Sam hesitate. He hates it when Lucifer reverts to having the maturity of a twelve year old, those moments when Sam isn't entirely sure he can trust Lucifer, despite his brutal honesty and his honest desire. Lucifer is like Gabriel reversed, Gabriel who is always twelve and childish and immature, and yet, when the shit hits the fan, Gabriel is there, willing to clean up, protecting Sam with his life. They are brothers, all right, and it's no wonder that they are always fighting because they are both very alike and very different. It's better now, the fighting, Sam is going to be the first to admit that, what with Lucifer reconciled with his family and Gabriel back in Heaven. Maybe Sam loves Gabriel a little, too.

Still it is difficult. Why must it be so difficult? It isn't possible to love two archangels at the same time. Hell, most people wouldn't find it possible to love _one_ , especially when one of them is Satan. 

It was easy before, when love was merely Lucifer's protection in the cage, and Gabriel's support on Earth. Before they became frequent actors in Sam's dreams. 

"I'd like that, to stay over," Sam finally says, deciding that he cannot decide between his suitors. Mostly because he doesn't want to.

"Thank you," Lucifer says, his smile warm and bright like the clear December sun. 

Hand in hand they walk towards the château. There are no other people to be seen. Sam takes a deep breath, the crisp air smelling of pines and earth and apples. Or maybe it's Lucifer.

They stop in front of the tall doors that lead inside. Lucifer reaches into his pocket and pulls up a key. "Gabriel told me he gave you a... boat." Lucifer wrinkles his nose as he turns the old key between his fingers. "Now, _Noah_ had a decent boat. Why Gabriel felt the need to burden you with something akin to a canoe is beyond me. I understand that you and your brother are not used to the vast expanse of the universe, but prefer smaller, more... human-sized environments, but that boat was an offense."

"I happened to like it," Sam says. "And I loved that he showed me the ocean and the giant turtles."

"They are beautiful, the reefs, especially where human filth hasn't yet destroyed them."

"That we can agree on. You haven't yet learned to love humans, but I believe you when you say you love Earth."

"I do. And this," Lucifer pauses and points at some vast fields where somebody is growing grapes, "is an organic vineyard. There are other fields, greenhouses. The château is self-sufficient. Everything you'd need is grown here. Vegetables, fruits, wine. There is a small poultry farm as well, animal welfare at its best. Apart from when the chickens are slaughtered."

"I wish you had showed the same restraint and concern when it comes to slaughtering humans," Sam cannot stop himself from saying. "Are you telling me that you're some kind of eco-activist now?" Sam somehow understands why Lucifer might feel that way about the globe, though. Sam appreciates it; he'd take an organic chicken and a poison-free salad to the apocalypse any time.

"No. Although I might learn to appreciate humans who are actually concerned with the state of my father's work. I know that _you_ are. Of course you can do what you like here, but the farm hands are used to organic production methods, so it would probably be best not to change it."

"Er, what?"

"I said you can do what you like—"

"Yeah, I got that. Why would I—"

"It's yours." Lucifer forces the key into Sam's free hand. "I bought it for you. With human money."

Sam had been baffled by the boat. Now he is stunned. It takes him a while to stop gaping like a fish out of water. He still feels like one, though, when he has gathered enough brainpower to speak. 

"You're giving me a— a _castle_?" Sam decides that nothing — absolutely nothing — is going to surprise him anymore. 

"It is only a small château, "Lucifer argues, as if the size of it makes it better."Fifteen bedrooms and fifty hectares. Considering I would have given you the entire universe, had I not sworn to my father not to repeat, erm, certain—"

"Hostile takeovers?" Sam nods. He's not sure what to do with a French château, but Lucifer probably sees it as a small token of his affection, nothing special. When everything, everytime and everywhere are available at the flicker of a thought, a pile of bricks with less than four hundred years of provenience is... well, a pile of bricks. Anyway, he can see where this is going. The gifts are less useful than what Sam is used to; after all Dean is the master of gas station gift-giving. Sam _could_ sell the boat, turn the château into a hotel, sell that too, only it would be rude. Sam is not rude, and he is also strangely touched by the elaborate gift. Lucifer never lies; his intentions are true. Sam had lovers who wanted to give him the universe, but Lucifer is the only one who could actually do it. It is strangely romantic. Touching. 

Looking at Lucifer, Sam finds that he cannot find it in himself to refuse the gift, because Lucifer looks at him with the excitement of a five year old who has just bought a parent a Christmas gift out of his pocket money. 

"Thank you. So... what do I do with it? What about the people who work here?"

"Taken care of. Don't worry, Sam. I swear, on my Father."

"So what do _we_ do?"

"Hungry?"

"Yes!"

"Your hunger is unusual for humans."

"Don't you start. You never eat."

"I do tonight. I have invited you to dinner."

"And kidnapped a chef."

"I asked." Lucifer looks guilty. "Nicely."

"You're hopeless," Sam says, fondly. He considers whether Lucifer would like it if he kissed him.

*

Dinner is exquisite. Not worth kidnapping a chef, buying a château and travel to France for a boring burger, and dinner is anything but.

The chef, apparently, is famous for working solely with regional and seasonal produce, and the entire meal is exactly that, because everything comes from Sam's new humble little house.

First there is a wonderful chicken soup with crunchy carrots and spicy leeks. There's a freshly baked whole grain bread to go with it, home made butter too. A sparkling white is green and light, and Sam eats, pleased to see that Lucifer seems to enjoy the food as well. It's simple food, but it's one of the best meals Sam has ever had.

A small appetizer makes Sam moan. It's a paté made from chicken liver and truffles, a salad vinaigrette to go with it. "I wish we could keep that chef," Sam says between two mouthfuls of delicate-tasting food. "This is..."

"Done," Lucifer says. "He'll take ten years here rather than in Hell."

"No! You can't just decide for people." Sam hadn't meant it, not like that.

"I'm not deciding. I am giving him an offer he can't refuse."

Sam isn't in doubt. Lucifer _is_ the master of temptation. And the chef isn't the only one who'll be tempted into accepting one of Lucifer's suggestions, Sam fears.

When the main course is served, Sam is willing to thank Chuck that Lucifer is proficient in luring people into saying yes to the oddest agreements, leaving one's three-star Michelin restaurant amongst them. It's the third dish made from the château's poultry, and it is _boring_. Boring in the sense that it is chicken, potatoes and vegetables, maybe six or seven different things, but the preparation? 

"This has been cooked in Heaven," Sam says when he takes another bite, tender meat almost melting in his mouth, butter-fried and perfectly seasoned with thyme and a fine pickled tomato-and-onion mix. 

"In the kitchen, not in Heaven. Only Joshua cooks, and not this well. I admit that it tastes good." Lucifer is gracious for once. "I pretend this is how it would have been had man not fallen from grace. In Paradise."

Sam laughs. "Not your best move, dude."

"And yet. It was the moment my father gave you free will. Paradise lost in exchange for autonomy."

"And you as the poster boy."

"Perhaps. I wonder if it was a bad thing."

So does Sam. For the first time he wonders if it has all been worth it, all the suffering, all the losses, all the hard choices that Dean and he had to make, in exchange for the quiet happiness that suddenly has overtaken him, sitting here with Lucifer, slowly falling in love with him. 

Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. But the chicken is to die for, and Sam gets a second helping, eliciting a pleased smile from Lucifer.

*

When Lucifer says sleep-over, he means sleep-over. They meet in the huge living room, blankets and pillows dragged down from the bedrooms. Sam wonders whether he is going to Hell for it, but Satan looks damned adorable in flannel pajamas with a delicate holly pattern. God, he's going to Hell. Which is even worse, because he'll probably still be with Satan, with or without the pajamas.

Without the pajamas. 

Thank God (again, although the purchase is Lucifer's) there are video games, because Sam does not want to go there — to Hell or down the road in his mind where the Devil Wears No Pajamas. Video games are a great distraction. 

They have a brief argument, deciding between Assassin's Creed or Need for Speed. Sam wins. Need for Speed. 

Mistake.

Lucifer doesn't lie, but he _cheats_. Sam is reasonably sure that there has never been a supercharged Formula 1 car in Need for Speed: Hot Pursuit, nor are the nuclear missiles mounted on the hood. They play for a while, Lucifer annihilating the competition. They should have played Assassin instead. Sam complains until Lucifer gives up and suggests that they watch a movie. 

That's another thing Sam learns about Lucifer. The movies that Lucifer likes are not things like Armageddon or Apocalypse Now. No, Lucifer likes _Monsters, Inc_. Sam is not surprised when Lucifer reveals that Randall Boggs, multi-legged lizard and crook _extraordinaire_ is his favorite. Or that Lucifer sniggers inappropriately every time a kid is getting scared. 

"Thank God nobody else can see me," Sam groans when he snuggles up with Lucifer on the huge white couch, hiding under woolen blankets and with a giant bowl of organic fruit, neatly sliced, between them.

The movie ends, and along the way, Lucifer's arm has moved around Sam's shoulder, and Sam hadn't really noticed how high up Lucifer's thigh his hand had wandered. But it is hard not to notice the way Lucifer looks at him, because it makes Sam sigh. Lucifer is possessive, but he is also able to love deeply, and that is precisely what Sam sees in his eyes that moment. Love. Adoration. Worship. 

How is it possible not to turn in Lucifer's arms and kiss him?

So Sam does.

Lucifer makes a surprised sound, as if he hadn't expected it, hadn't expected that Sam would choose him.

It makes Sam want to kiss Lucifer more.

So Sam does.


	4. Four Call Girls

"What?" Sam paws at the phone, attempting to make it stop blaring "I'm Too Sexy" loudly enough to wake up the entire château. Sam is very sure that he never chose that particular ring tone for that particular caller.

"Make it stop!" Lucifer begs, turning in bed, leaning over Sam, trying to get to the phone. "I hate him."

"No, you don't," Sam argues, finally turning the phone the right way. He presses 'decline' and takes a deep breath. 'We're in bed. Together."

"Yeah," Lucifer says, smug. "We are."

"Good," Sam says, and pulls Lucifer in to kiss him, morning breath and all.

The phone goes off again.

"I'm gonna kill him," Lucifer says. "With my bare hands."

"Yeah, no." Sam glares at Lucifer. "Been there, done that, and if you _ever_ as much as think about doing it again, I am going to strangle you with the t-shirt."

"Providing I needed to breathe. Which goes for Gabriel as well. Are you going to answer when he calls again?"

"Mhm," Sam replies, unable to say much more than that, all muffled by Lucifer's lips. They get all of thirty seconds before the phone rings again. Lucifer sighs and flops back into bed, on his back, pillows shoved under his head. Sam isn't sure that Lucifer is truly annoyed. After all, Sam is in Lucifer's bed and not in Gabriel's. 

"Sammy! Finally," Gabriel cries into the phone, making Sam remove _his_ phone a good ten inches from his ear. "You have been cheating on me, and don't deny it — do you really think that Lucifer and his vessel can do the horizontal tango without the universe noticing? You left me with a hard-on the size of Mount Everest!"

Sam cannot stop himself from laughing. He should feel bad, lying in bed with Lucifer, speaking to his little brother who also would like to be in Sam's bed, but he doesn't. Gabriel makes him smile. He also makes him frustrated, angry, happy, annoyed, pleased, and a cornucopia of other feelings. "We did not... What do you want, Gabe?"

"Ooh, polite, are we? It's the fourth day of Christm—"

"No, it isn't," Sam interrupts. "That's in two weeks. So, what is it?"

"You're going to love this one, Kiddo."

Right. Sam prepares for the worst. Seeing how the idiots are carrying on, it can be anything from a trip to the moon to a pig farm or a home for the elderly. Except none of those have anything to do with four calling birds.

"And four caaah-aaall girls," Gabriel part sings, part cries into the phone. "Except they're not call girls. It's a phone sex line. Four of the best girls in the industry. You're going to be rich!"

"No. Absolutely not." Sam puts his foot down. Mostly he plants it directly on Lucifer's thigh, making him groan and stare angrily at Sam. "Sorry," he whispers.

"Come on, Sam! " Gabriel goes on, with little less enthusiasm. "They are great girls! Professional, like you wouldn't believe it. Tania wrote her BA while moaning at men, and Marianne takes care of her three lovely kids..." There is a pause. "You really don't like it?"

"Yeah, no. I like that you are trying to give me something nice, Gabriel, but I am not taking money from hard-working women. Give it to _them_. I'll take the company if I can give it to them. Right now. Put a bow on it and tell them Merry Christmas from an admirer."

There's a deep sigh. "Fine. At least they'll be happy."

"And could you please — wait— " Sam turns in bed and pokes Lucifer in the chest with a finger. "That goes for you too, Lucifer. No more elaborate gifts. No more castles, no more boats, no companies, no insane interpretations of carols that you don't... just... _don't!_ Seriously, guys! You do know that when people are, er, wooing, it's with flowers and engagement rings and _not_ with all sorts of... stuff! And people." Sam eyes the phone with suspicion. "You got that, Gabriel?"

"Clear as Hawaiian H2O, Sammy. No girls."

"Or castles."

"Or castles."

"Swear!" Sam trusts Gabriel as far as he can throw him in this. He eyes Lucifer, indicating that he has to accept the conditions too. "On your father."

"Zzzzchwkrrrrrrschhhh!"

"Stop it, Gabe. You are not very convincing." Gabriel's attempt to sound like a bad connection leaves a lot to be desired.

"Schhhhhhhkrrraaaaaaschhhhh! Beeeep! We're sorry, the number you have dial—"

"Gabriel. _Gabriel_!"

"You're no fun. Is it because my boring older brother have bored you to death with unimaginative and boring sexual advances? You're bored, and now you're taking it out on your favorite archangel?"

"No. And it's none of your business." Sam _could_ tell Gabriel that there has been no advances, apart from a lot of kissing. Yes, they slept together, or rather Sam slept when Lucifer did whatever the Devil does when he is in bed and not sleeping. Exactly like Sam had slept with Gabriel on the boat, sharing a bed and a few kisses, but nothing more. 

"Unimaginative?" Lucifer reaches for the phone. Sam keeps it away from him. "I'll give him unimaginative."

"No thanks, Bro. I prefer crazy, wild and tied to the bed." Gabriel's voice is clear enough for Sam to hear everything. "And when I say 'tied to the bed', I mean that I am doing the tying. If you're willing, I'd happily give you a lesson. As a thank you."

"A thank you for _what_?" Sam mouths, frowning.

"I heard that, Samsquatch. Who did you think taught me about pleasure and love in the first place? When I was young and innocent and didn't know better?" 

"No? You didn't? You had... Sam can hardly get out the words. You had... sex with Lucifer?" Sam looks from the phone to Lucifer and back again. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. 

Lucifer gets a hold of the phone. "Bye, Gabriel." He turns off the phone before Sam can get it back. "Enough," Lucifer says with conviction. 

"What was that about?" Sam demands. "And don't think you can get out of this; I'll just pray to Gabriel and tell him where we are." Lucifer suddenly looks so gloomy and guilty that Sam feels bad for having put that expression on his face. "If you really don't want to talk about it, it's fine," Sam says. It isn't, really. Not because Lucifer won't kiss and tell, but because there has been any kissing to tell at all. It has to be kisses that meant something, because Lucifer never mentioned it, not now, not in the cage. But Sam isn't jealous. He is _intrigued._ Also, the depth of Lucifer and Gabriel's relationship might explain the ongoing tension and the frequent fallouts between them. Maybe they are still... in love? 

"Lucifer?" Sam squeezes Lucifer's hand, feeling strangely protective.

"It's... complicated." Lucifer rubs the bridge of his nose, stalling.

"It's you and Gabriel. Yeah, sure it's complicated."

"He's my brother." Lucifer says it as if it explains everything.

"But you miss him? As more than your brother?"

"Human ideas have no meaning in heaven. Love is love. We did not... like humans. It was _grace_. Love and grace mingling to create rapture, the deepest joy, being together with the being that I loved most of all my father's creations."

"Oh. Maybe I shouldn't have..." Sam doesn't like the sad expression on Lucifer's face. "Do you want me to forget about it?" It's a lie and Sam knows it. 

So does Lucifer. "No, it's fine. I... do miss him, but I love you, Sam. You're not a replacement; you are you, Gabriel is..."

"Gabriel. So, you never were together, like humans?"

Lucifer's cheeks get oddly pink. "It might have happened once or twice. When we were wearing our vessels. Not Nick," he adds. "In the beginning. When Father created man. For science."

Sam laughs. "For science?" Sam is trying not to examine his reasons for interrogating Lucifer about his relationship with Gabriel. "You hated humans. How is it that you agreed to do something that might have made you uncomfortable and disgusted?"

Lucifer blushes again. "Yes. For science. And because it was... good."

"And then it wasn't?" 

"I hurt his feelings. He was my little brother and the being I loved the most. I fell. I abandoned him."

No, Sam doesn't like it at all. He doesn't like the pain in Lucifer's voice. He doesn't like Gabriel's desperate attempt to woo. He doesn't like that two angels who were supposed to be the epitome of strength and love and perfection are both falling apart at the seams. "Gabriel—" Sam begins, not sure how to go on. 

"You are in love with him," Lucifer says, demonstrating surprising insight. "I can see it when you talk about him, or like now, when he calls you and your eyes turn into stars, and your mind is full of love and want."

"Maybe some of it is for you," Sam says quietly. "I think it is. How can I ever come between the two of you if your love is old and forever?"

"Heaven fell. Everything changed. And you were made for me. We were made for each other."

"Do you regret that you let him go?" Sam asks. "Maybe he was made for you, too?"

"Maybe he was. I am not letting _you_ go, Sam," Lucifer says with conviction. "And I begin to think that it was a mistake to let Gabriel too."

Sam has nothing more to say. There is nothing left to say. They are all caught up in this odd triangle of love and need and desire. How they are going to solve it, Sam has no idea. He could step back, but he doesn't want to. Gabriel is pushing the limits, and Lucifer is just the same stubborn, persistent, insisting archangel he has always been, albeit with a bit less evil to go with the rest. Lucifer is unhelpful. He simply wraps himself around Sam in a very protective way. Sam doesn't resist.

Of course it's Gabriel who pulls them out of their introspective mood, huddling together as they once did in the cage.

The cellphone comes to life, despite its lack of battery. 

_Hil's Burgers, Canyon, Texas_ ," Sam reads. _Tomorrow at 4. Tell Lucy to take you there. (It's PM - if you think I'm up at AM, you're going to be disappointed. Have no fun with L. -G)_


	5. Five Olden Rings

Gabriel is waiting for them when they arrive. Hil's is possibly one of the least charming places Sam has ever visited, and that says a lot. It's a small burger joint, and not only is it without any redeeming features, but it is also located in the most boring, flat, arid place in Texas. 

"Why?" is the first thing Sam says when he steps inside. Gabriel is sitting in a corner, occupying a table for four. 

Gabriel stretches languidly, like a big cat. He runs his fingers through his mane of hair, and Sam thinks Gabriel knows exactly how good he looks. "You wanted engagement rings."

"Engagement rings?" Sam can't remember ever having expressed any wishes in that direction, but then again he never wished for a yacht or a castle, either. Or a phone sex line.

"You told Gabriel that humans woo with rings," Lucifer says, backstabbing Sam like the truth-loving ass he is. "What I fail to see is that it was necessary to meet _here_. I am considering taking up a hobby when I see places like this. It would be a good place to start the apocalypse. It's apocalyptic already."

"Two reasons," Gabriel says. "Here is the first." He puts his fist on the table, opening it. A small gold ring, heavy from the sound of it, rolls around a few times and falls to rest on the peeling Formica.

Sam stares at the ring. "You... you..." He slides into the seat across Gabriel. "You are proposing to me... _here_? You are asking me to give you an answer now? Gabriel, I can't _do_ that." Sam can't. Not after yesterday's revelations. Not as long as he himself cannot separate the feelings he has for Gabriel with the feelings he has for Lucifer. Asking him to choose one and let the other go... he can't. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

"Sam—"

"Listen, Gabriel. Can we do this somewhere else?"

"No, Sammy. Take it. I found it for you. At least take it as a gift. Please?" 

Gabriel looks so innocent that Sam cannot refuse him, not again, not after yesterday's hopeless gift. "Alright." Sam takes the ring between two fingers and he almost drops it when it _hums_ , as if some kind of current runs through it. "What is it?"

" _Draupnir._ " 

" _That_ Draupnir? The... ring that. No."

"Yes."

"Odin's ring? The ring that drips eight golden rings every seventh day?"

"Ninth. But that Draupnir, yes. Only the best is good enough for you, Kiddo."

Sam turns around to see what Lucifer is doing, but he is gone. "Where did he go?" Not that Sam is worried, but he doesn't want Lucifer to feel left out. Or worse: jealous.

"He had an errand," Gabriel says, the smirk on his face slightly disconcerting. "I believe he'll be back soon."

Sam is sure Gabriel knows something he doesn't, but he leaves it like that, instead looking at the ring again. "It should be in a museum." Except it shouldn't, because Sam is perfectly able to imagine what would happen when Draupnir starts dripping its little golden offspring in public. "Where has it been until now? I don't think I ever read anything about it, except in the Sagas."

"Ah. It has been... around. Odin mislaid it. Hermóður got it back. He gave it to Freyr who in turn offered it to Gerður, and I might have found it lying around."

Sam has only a vague idea of who those people are. "You stole it?"

Gabriel purses his mouth. "Call it a long term loan. It was meant for Baldur, and he's not really... around."

"You're unbelievable."

"I was Loki. It's what I do."

"Not anymore. Really, Gabriel?" Gabriel pouts so pathetically that Sam cannot but help taking his hand. "You know you don't have to do all this for me? It doesn't make a difference."

Gabriel's eyes turn sad. "You've chosen already. You're in love with _him_. Not that I don't understand."

"No, I haven't chosen anything. Or anyone, for that matter. I'm not ready, Gabriel. And it's not fair that you and Lucifer are trying to make me. No rings will remedy that."

Before Gabriel can reply, Lucifer is sitting at the table, just between one moment and the next appearing next to Sam. Lucifer smiles, leans back against the cracked vinyl backrest, and puts his arm around Sam's shoulder, casually, not close enough to be overly demonstrative; for some reason Lucifer seems to be picking up on the not-so-gay-friendly atmosphere that has already made one or two patrons look their way. But it's demonstrative enough to make Gabriel look even sadder. Sam stretches his legs, letting one brush up against Gabriel's, keeping it there. Gabriel smiles.

"Where have you been?" Sam demands. "I was worried."

"Aw, the little wifey," Gabriel begins but a dark glare from Sam shuts him up.

"In Yvain, le Chevalier au Lion," Lucifer says, smug.

"Excuse me?" Sam says. "You've been with another... vessel?"

"No. Yvain the Lion Knight is a Medieval romance," Lucifer says. "By Chrétien de Troyes. It had impact enough on the universe to create its own reality, a dimension, if you prefer. I went there."

"You... went into a story?" Sam stares at Lucifer, wide-eyed. Lucifer stares back, like it is nothing to move into dimensions (which it is not, not when one is an archangel), that doesn't exist, or aren't supposed to exist. "You can do that? And why?"

"For this," Lucifer says and places another ring on the table. "The invisibility ring that once belonged to Yvain. It was given to him by his beloved lady, it protected true lovers from coming to harm. _It must be worn so that the stone is within the palm; then he who wears the ring upon his finger need have no concern for anything; for no one, however sharp his eyes may be, will be able to see him any more than the wood which is covered by the outside bark._ That is what Yvain was told." 

"And Yvain was later driven mad with grief for being banned from seeing his beloved." Gabriel says, too content with whatever implications the acquisition of the ring have. "I don't think Sam will appreciate that part of the romance. He'll waste away if he's not allowed to be with me."

"The ring will protect Sam from coming to harm" Lucifer insists. "It is very useful for a hunter."

"Yvain also saved a lion from being killed by a _snake_ ," Gabriel says, smirking, a flash of sharp canines showing, leaving no doubt who is who. "Sound familiar too?"

"And now you stole Yvain's ring?" Sam is ready to give up. "What are you? A common criminal or an angel?"

"Erm... well..." Lucifer squirms a little. "Yes."

"Yes to which? Aren't you supposed to redeem yourself of evil? You can't go around, stealing people's stuff, Lucifer!" Sam is, to say it mildly, baffled.

"He—" Lucifer begins and points accusingly at Gabriel.

"Don't start," Sam says, "or this little wooing game of yours stops _right_ now. "Both of you, go put those rings back where they belong."

It is two slightly downcast archangels who run off, metaphorical tails between their legs, to do Sam's bidding.

*

It takes longer than Sam had expected for Gabriel and Lucifer to get back. Having nothing better to do, Sam orders a giant meal, not knowing how long he has to wait for their return. Or _if_ they return. Dealing with archangels is a full time job, in Sam's opinion, slightly easier now that Lucifer has delegated the administration of Hell to Crowley, leaving time for redemption. In that regard, Chuck's return to Heaven did help.

Sam's stomach growls. The small burger joint might be a dump, but the burgers sure aren't bad. There's a buffet with all sorts of condiments and vegetables, allowing the customers to create their own burger. When the meat is done, Sam takes his time, building a burger that would make Dean envious. When he returns to the table, Lucifer and Gabriel are back, seated, but glaring at each other with such ferocity that Sam fears for the continued health of the people in the small diner.

"Now what?" Sam slams the tray down on the table, Coke sloshing over the rim of the glass. "What did you do now? You gave back the rings, right?"

Both archangels look guilty. "Yes."

"I guess there's a 'but' here. Spill," Sam orders, and slides in next to Gabriel. "You first," he tells Lucifer. "What kind of heinous crime did you commit?"

Lucifer looks offended. "I bargained. I, the Devil, the lightbringer, God's most perfect—"

Gabriel has a small coughing fit.

"I bought a ring," Lucifer says when Gabriel's exaggerated, however wordless comment, ceases. "I bought a ring for you, Sam. With money. Or with... a few wishes. Solomon did not take credit cards." Lucifer holds out a ring. It seems to be made of brass and iron, nothing special, except the pattern on the front. It's a pentagram. "It's Solomon's signet. It allows the bearer to command water and animals, and more importantly, demons."

"Oh. Sam takes the ring carefully. "That really is useful. How did you..."

"Swore on my father that the bearer — you — was worthy of it, that he'd continue to fight demons like Solomon had done. Plus, I granted access to a few more of Solomon's wives into his little corner of Heaven."

"His wives? How many did he have?"

"Seven hundred. And three hundred concubines."

"Busy man, then." Sam laughs. And here he was wondering if he could have two lovers. "Some people can never get enough."

"If he had had you, Sam, he'd never have craved all those wives," Gabriel says, his eyes shifting for a moment to Lucifer. "That would have been greedy."

"And greed is sinful," Lucifer says. "Good thing I am the father of sin. To me it'd be nothing but an innocent slip back into my old ways. It would be... expected of me, as not to confuse Heaven and Hell. A few innocent sins, to uphold the order of the universe."

"That's the worst excuse I've ever heard," Sam declares. "But I like the ring. It is _not_ an engagement ring, though. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Lucifer says, a small but happy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

"In that case, thank you. It is a very thoughtful gift." Sam is about to lean over the table and kiss Lucifer, then he remembers where they are. "I'll make sure to thank you properly and thoroughly later." It is very satisfying to see the look on Lucifer's face when he catches up with the implications.

"See? Like I told you. He's boring and predictable," Gabriel says, maybe or maybe not aware that the way he looks at his brother strips the jab of any punch it would have had. "No, _this_ is a stroke of brilliance." Gabriel holds out a small gold ring for Sam to peruse. "And before you ask, I didn't steal it, I didn't bargain for it. Nobody wanted it, at least not anyone important, and it was thrown away. I picked it up. It once belonged to Annatar, the Lord of Gifts."

Lucifer lets out a roar of laughter, making people turn and look at them. "Oh brother."

"I thought it oddly fitting." Gabriel's smile is decidedly mischievous. "I thought you'd appreciate it, too."

Lucifer dries his eyes. "Compared to me, the Lord of Gifts was A) a rank amateur, and B) entirely without remorse."

Sam is developing a headache. "I apologize," he says quietly, entirely incapacitated when it comes to getting angry with Gabriel, because the enormity of what he has done is too overwhelming. "But when you are talking about the Lord of Gifts, we are talking about..."

"Ah, not to worry," Gabriel says, a bit more chipper than Sam would like. "He was destroyed during the war, and his form... let's just say that there is no chance in Hell that he'd make his way into this dimension."

"For once, Gabriel is right. The ring is safe here." He takes Sam's hand to place the ring on it, but Sam won't have it. 

"Do I get this right?" Sam asks, feeling the headache turning into a migraine. He points at Gabriel. "The Lord of Gifts is Sauron's second incarnation. And you went to yet another fictional dimension. You took the One Ring from the bottom of Mount Doom, you brought it here, and now you expect me to wear it?"

"Weeeell. It sounded like a good idea when I did it." Gabriel shrugs, not the least apologetic.

"Put. It. Back."

"Ah, ah," Lucifer says. "Gabriel has messed with the fabric. No way of telling what happens in that dimension now. Anyway Sauron has no power outside it, incompetent wizard that he is, so the Ring stays here. It's powerless in our part of the universe. My father does not approve of witchcraft, so I'll make sure it is safe from falling into the hands of anyone who can send it back. "Give it to me."

Gabriel, still recovering from the dismissal of his gift, willingly offers the small ring to Satan.

"You want to give the One Ring to Lucifer of all people? One ring to rule them all, one ring to bind them? And you give that to Lucifer?"

"He's going to give Sauron a run for his money if he ever gets out of his dimension. Lucifer does not approve of evil for evil's sake. He's an angel, angel. And contrary to Sauron, Lucifer is on the road back to taking his seat at my father's right hand — providing that that Messiah-dude isn't occupying the chair on that particular day."

There is that. The ring is _fictional_. Unfortunately it feels very real. It makes sense, though, that worlds that have made an impact on the universe somehow come to exist in the void between real and unreal.

Lucifer snorts. "I don't have time to sit idle in Heaven. I have more important matters to take care of. Sam, for example. Ring."

"So now Sam is engaged to you, and you are engaged to me. Any suggestions to how we solve that little problem?" Gabriel turns his hand, palm up. For a few seconds, the One Ring looks like it's on fire. 

Lucifer takes it and it turns white with hoarfrost. He studies it, turning it between his fingers. "No, it has no power here, no power against me." He puts it on, and nothing happens. On Lucifer's hand, it is just a gold ring. He turns to Gabriel. "Who says I want it solved?" Lucifer says. "But if you find a ring that Sam would actually keep, you could be engaged to him too."

"Hello! Not engaged to anyone," Sam insists. "Could you stop, please."

"As a matter of fact I do. Have more rings, that is. Draupnir happened to end its nine-day-cycle before I gave it back." Gabriel reaches into his pocket. "I have this one." 

It's an exact copy of Draupnir. 

"Does it have any magical abilities," Sam wants to know. He isn't going to ask whether Gabriel stole the new rings or not. Sam decides that Gabriel was in possession of Draupnir at the time it produced more rings. It makes it a case of possession being nine tenths of the law. It's easier to let Gabriel have his way. And just maybe, just maybe, Sam _would_ like that ring on his finger.

"Okay."

Gabriel fistpumps, making a small cry of triumph. "Yes!" 

Sam lets Gabriel slide the ring on his finger. It fits like it was made for him. "I don't have anything for you, though."

"I'll take these." Gabriel reaches across the table and grabs a plate. "Why do you think I wanted to meet here? This place has the best onion rings in the entire universe!"

"No!" Sam makes grabby hands at the pile of crispy, golden rings. "We share, or all deals are off."

"Really?" Gabriel purrs. "You are willing to share everything you have? With me?" Again Gabriel looks at Lucifer. "Then I'll be happy to share what little I have with you."


	6. Six Geese In Layers

Exhausted and a little too full, Sam lets himself into the bunker. It's quiet. Not sure what Dean is doing, Sam decides he wants a cup of chamomile tea before he goes to bed - alone. He needs time to think, and he can't do that with one or more insistent archangels bothering him for answers he cannot give. Sam throws his bag and his jacket in a chair and walks down to the kitchen. 

Where Dean is. Likely. At least there is a dark blond guy. Who is kissing a black-haired guy who looks so much like Cas (what little he can see of him) that Sam gives up on the tea in favor of letting Dean (presumably) and Cas (highly likely) have time to do what they should have done years ago.

Sam closes the door behind him and steers toward his bedroom. Thank God it is empty. No Gabriel, no Lucifer. A shower, some serious toothbrushing (onion rings are great, but the aftertaste isn't), and a good night's sleep and Sam is ready to face new surprises. He doesn't doubt that there will be more. He could probably talk Lucifer out of it, had it not been for the competition. Only Gabriel is not going to stop; he is too obsessed with the desecration of cumulative carols, so Lucifer isn't going to back off, either.

Sam has to wait it out. He is happy that the song lasts them only twelve days. He can do it. If only Lucifer and Gabriel keep the stupidity low and the gifts to a minimum, he can do it. Without killing anybody. 

Sam rubs his face tiredly. The ring on his finger surprises him; he has not yet gotten used to it. He looks at it, turning it slowly. He smiles, somewhat reluctantly. It is not an engagement ring, but it still feels like a promise. Strangely enough it doesn't disturb Sam half as much as he would like it to, that he might or might not be promised to another man, who in turn made another promise to another man. Angel. Whatever.

*

"Up and at 'em, Sammy! Your brother is in bed with my brother, so we're out of here. We're going to Iceland!"

Sam groans, turns and hopes the nightmare goes away. 

"Sammo, baby! Come on. Get your lazy ass out of bed."

"Fuck off, Gabriel."

"You love me! I knew it! Come on. Shower, dress, and let's go. Here. At least thirty of today's required six geese are a-laying inside that one." Something fluffy and soft is thrown at Sam. He catches it before it hits him in the face. It's a parka, one of the really pricey mountaineer types with down filling. "And there are boots too."

Sam sits up, looking at his phone. It's eleven o'clock, and he has slept for more than twelve hours. Dealing with archangels sure is tiresome. Since Gabriel offers, Sam would actually like some fresh air, although Iceland isn't precisely what he had imagined. Or where. On the other hand, he is curious. It's not that Iceland is the home of the Norse pantheon, but it's a part of the culture. Yeah, he'd like to go. For Gabriel.

Half an hour later, clean, dressed and far too hot, as he is wearing the new parka and a pair of insulated leather boots, Sam steps outside the bunker with Gabriel, luckily without having encountered Dean and Castiel. That can of worms... it has to be opened later. Much, _much_ later. Maybe as a countermeasure when Sam has to explain to Dean what _he_ is doing with Lucifer and Gabriel.

"How are we—" Sam begins and before he can say another word, Gabriel has zapped them to... Sam looks around and sees nothing but waves and cliffs and sun. The ground is moving. He clings to Gabriel for a moment, trying to make sense of the world.

"The Moose. Skjálfandaflóa. Iceland. A waste not to use the yacht, now that you have it." Lucifer steps out from under the huge canopy that still is raised on the deck. "We're staying here tonight, tomorrow we're going birdwatching."

Sam needs to breathe. He really, really needs to breathe. The air is crisp and cold, but it feels as if he is gasping and nothing is happening. "You... you're both here?" 

"Is that a problem?" Lucifer asks softly. "I got the distinct notion that you'd prefer if Gabriel and I got along."

"Oh yeah," Sam breathes, trying to smile and breathe and talk at the same time. "I'd like that very much."

"Great!" Gabriel says. "So here's the plan: tonight we are doing absolutely nothing. We're going to have a video night—" Gabriel stops, then chuckles. "No, Sam, not _that_ kind of videos. I know you want my body, but it's a bit premature watching porn with you." Ignoring the fact that he has sent Sam porn before, Gabriel pulls Sam with him to the railing. "The sun goes down in three hours—until then, we're whale-watching and having lunch."

Sam doesn't protest. Iceland is beautiful and grand seen from the sea, and there are humpbacks and orcas to watch. Plus, Gabriel's idea of breakfast is a lush meal with everything that Sam could possibly want. Drinking gourmet coffee, sitting in the sun, full to the brim with organic eggs and bacon, orange juice and a delicious salad, all produce from the château... that isn't a bad way to start the day. Coffee in hand, Sam smiles when a group of orcas appear, curious like most dolphins. Lucifer seems very interested in the them, curious too. "I understand humans have scientists who specialize in whales and dolphins," Lucifer says. "I think I like that."

"Marine biologists," Sam comments, a little surprised that Lucifer has thought that much about Earth and what humans do to it. "Whales, sharks, dolphins, fish. The ocean in general."

"Remind me," Lucifer says, "that if I ever fall again and become human, I'd like that. Marine biologist."

"You really are changing." Gabriel steps up next to Lucifer, hesitating only a second before he slips an arm around his waist. "I like that."

"Maybe we are all changing," Lucifer says. "And I think I might come to like it in time." Without hesitating he turns and presses a kiss to Gabriel's cheek, waiting until he looks up in surprise, then offers him another, on the mouth.

Sam can't stop himself. He sighs, strangely happy, and maybe a little bit jealous, when Gabriel makes a needy sound and returns the kiss, a little more intimate and a little longer than necessary for a brotherly kiss.

*

Darkness falls and Gabriel has as usual gone overboard, albeit not in a literal sense. The canopy on the deck still has a bed in it, like it did when they went to Hawaii, but now the canopy has heavy velvet curtains on three sides, and there is a merry fire burning in a fire pit, making it bearable to be outside in the cold, clear night. Sam doesn't get to ask; Gabriel is uncommunicative when he sends Sam below deck to wash up and change into thick flannel pajamas and fluffy woolen socks.

When he gets back up, Gabriel and Lucifer have disappeared. Sam finds them in bed, both of them wearing similar attires. Sam shivers; without the warm down parka, Iceland is, well, Iceland. 

"Get in," Gabriel says and pulls the thick comforter to the side. "The rest of the globe's geese are in here, or their down is. Best comforter ever." 

There is room for Sam between Gabriel and Lucifer. Sam sure isn't going to complain. The bed is soft and warm, and cuddling up with angels who generate as much heat as they need, the bed _is_ delightfully warm. 

Above them, the waning crescent moon provides little light when the stars come out to dance on the firmament. Sam groans, entirely content, half buried in pillows and archangels. Gabriel lies on his side, pressed up against Sam, nuzzling his neck. Sam allows it, but he scoots over, pulling Gabriel with him, so that he can lean back against Lucifer's chest. With Lucifer's arm around his shoulder, and Lucifer's occasionally pressing a kiss to his hair or to his cheek, Sam really doesn't want to move, or do anything but what he's doing. He asks anyway, because Gabriel planned it, and Sam might have come to like the smile on Gabriel's face when his usually outrageous plans are to Sam's liking. "You said video night," Sam says. "But there's no TV?"

"Oh, boy-o, not that kind. Patience. It's starting. Look up."

Above them, in the dark, clear sky, northern lights flare, flowing curtains of pulsing green and blue, lighting up the sky in a display of ever-changing colors. 

"Norðrljós," Gabriel says, in the language of Loki and the pantheon he once belonged to. "When the valkýrjas ride forth on their errand, their armor sheds a strange flickering light, which flashes up over the northern skies, making what men call the northern lights."

That is how Sam falls asleep in the cold Icelandic night: with the display of nature's most spectacular show above him, and with warm lips and hands on his body, safe and protected by the two men he desires, Sam drifts into a beautiful dream that has nothing in it but the feeling of being loved and cared for.


	7. Some Swans A-shredding

"There are no swans. I am taking a day off," Gabriel announces when Sam finally is done showering and steps outside, dressed warmly in his new feathered best friend, the down parka. "Do you want orange or apple?"

Sam wonders if they are ever going to stay below deck, but the canopy and the fire pit is relatively comfortable, and the view, the sun rising over Iceland, flocks of seabirds high up on the clear sky, is worth it. So is breakfast. As usual, when Gabriel has made a meal (or snapped his fingers to pull it out of nothing) it is opulent and delicious.

"Thank you. I think that's the best gift you could give me." Sam reaches for the orange juice. "A day without gifts."

Gabriel wiggles his eyebrows. "Really, Sam? There are _so_ many things I could give you. I thought you were more imaginative than that." 

"I have plenty of imagination, thanks. Why are there no swans?"

"They migrate, most of them, in the winter." Gabriel perches on his chair, ass on the backrest, feet on the seat. He is, for a reason that eludes Sam, wearing mittens. He's cradling a huge mug of coffee. "If it disappoints you, I'll be happy to create some. Don't think they'll be very comfortable here, though."

Being with Gabriel often is a bit surreal. It's strange how Lucifer and he are so alike and so different. Lucifer has class, Gabriel has none, and yet Sam cannot decide who he likes best. Gabriel should be cute, but he never is; even now, clad in a down parka similar to Sam's, and those stupid mittens, Gabriel has this air of danger and predator, always lurking behind the smile and the mirth in his eyes. Lucifer, on the other hand, Satan, the Devil, the father of Evil, should be downright scary, but Sam _knows_ him, and with Lucifer, there is always this softness, this feeling of deep love and connection between them. Contrary to common belief, at least what Sam believes would be common belief, it will be Lucifer who'd be wrapped around Sam's finger, and Gabriel who gobbles him down. But love is what makes them the same. Both miss family life, love-starved and lonely, at odds, even though they love each other.

A bit too familiar. No wonder that Sam is attracted to them both. God help him, to them both.

"Er, no, no thanks." Sam shakes off his introspective mood, wanting to be _here_ , now, with Gabriel. "I'll be fine."

"I could turn _you_ into a swan," Gabriel suggests with a wide grin, flapping his mittens as to imitate a swan in flight. Unfortunately he mostly looks like a drunk duck with take-off trouble. "And we could play the swan prince and the handsome knight who comes to his aid. It would mean that I'd have to kiss you, but I'll do it. For science."

"For science?" Sam's eyebrows travel up a floor. 

"Well, you _are_ wearing a feather coat, and there has been very little research done on what happens when hot angels kiss handsome humans. Why don't we undress you and see if you turn into a prince? For science. Definitely for science. And since an evil sorcerer turned you into a swan, I must marry you to free you and unite our kingdoms, Heaven and Earth. We can do that, too, right away, they have churches here. And equal marriage."

"And _my_ kingdom?" Lucifer steps into the canopy, looking none too pleased. "You want to leave that out of that union? Or am I to play the evil sorcerer?" There is an undercurrent of sadness in his voice.

"Never." Gabriel reaches for Lucifer, suddenly serious, pulling him close. "Never, Hêlêl. Heaven is our kingdom now, we share like brothers."

"You call me _morning star_ again?" Lucifer steps willingly into Gabriel's embrace. "It has been a very long time."

"It has been a very long time since we... shared everything," Gabriel says. He drops his mittens without noticing. He looks up at Lucifer, a look of utter adoration. "Too long."

"Mmm," Lucifer says. "We could remedy that." He caresses Gabriel's cheek, tilting up his chin before he kisses him, a slow kiss that starts out gentle and sweet, but turns deep and eager when Gabriel moans. 

Sam swallows. He can't recall having seen anything hotter than that, not the way Lucifer's hips moves, not the way Gabriel gives in with everything he has, arms tight around Lucifer's neck, eyes closed in pleasure. There is an ease to the way they kiss, as if they have done it a thousand times before and never forgotten how it felt. Sam, too, knows how it feels, kissing with such ease. But apart from being spooned between the two angels, sharing kisses, he doesn't know how it feels to be with the both of them. The mere thought of it, all that passion shared between them... Sam sighs.

The sound makes Gabriel break the kiss. "And Sam?"

"Free will, Gabriel. You'll have to ask Sam about that."

"I'm asking you."

"If Sam is willing, so am I. We have fought one time too many."

If Lucifer and Gabriel are suggesting what Sam thinks they are suggesting, then Sam is willing. Sam has never been more willing in his _life_. How it's going to work out, he has no idea, but he wants everything, without really knowing what he gets. He can't continue pretending that he wants to choose, because he really, really doesn't. He wants Gabriel, and he wants Lucifer, both of them, in equal measures, just as he wants to give himself to them, to share. If he is allowed to see Gabriel and Lucifer like this — brothers, friends, lovers — he'll say yes to anything they suggest. _God_ , anything!

The lie has ended. Sam knows now that the truth is that he is in love with them both, and that the consequences... they'll be damned, because Sam refuses to be. He's in love.

Gabriel looks over Lucifer's shoulder. "Sam?"

"Yes."

"You know what we are asking of you?"

"I'm not an idiot, Gabriel. I have ears. And eyes."

"Very pretty eyes. So?"

Sam shakes his head. Gabriel is, and always will be, Gabriel. "So?"

Lucifer turns away from Gabriel, holding out his hand. "So will you allow us both to woo you? Together?"

Gabriel ruins it, of course. "Come on, Kiddo, you know you want us! Let's kiss, win our swan prince so we can all shed these downy plumages and get to the good stuff!"

Sam takes Lucifer's hand. "I wish I knew why I am doing this. Forever with Gabriel," he tells Lucifer, "is going to feel like eternity."

It makes Lucifer smile. "I know." 

Then Sam is dragged into their embrace, Lucifer's arm on his waist, Gabriel's arm slipping around him from the other side. Then Gabriel's mouth is on his, Lucifer's lips on his cheek, a long kiss that shifts and fluctuates, mouths and tongues meeting, breath mingling and turning into moans and hunger. 

And perhaps there _are_ magic and swans in the air, because Sam's parka, and Gabriel's, are shed, left on the deck, when two angels and a human sink into bed, naked under the light, warm comforter, enough passion to match the heat of the hot springs and the geysers and of the northern lights.


	8. Eight Hounds A-running

"I don't wanna," Sam says as the car slows down when they pass the race track. "You're not planning to take me there, are you?"

"Nope. I like dogs too much." Gabriel leans in and kisses Sam on the mouth, just a brief brush of lips. "I mean, greyhounds love running, so that's fine, but the way they are treated when they aren't useful?" Gabriel snuggles the Jack Russell and the small dog squirms and yaps, forcing Gabriel to let go of it. "Father created dogs to be hunters and companions, not to live in stables or to be turned into money-machines."

"A bit like humans, some humans, at least," Lucifer says, looking over his shoulder at Gabriel and Sam in the backseat. The sports car swerves. "Hunters and companions." 

"Concentrate on driving, or let me," Sam growls, well aware that with two angels on his shoulder he is not coming to any harm. Gabriel, on the other hand, might end up bruised if he continues unbuttoning Sam's shirt. "And you, stop that." Sam swats Gabriel's hand away. "Really, Gabriel? In the back seat?"

"Aw, Sammich! Come on!"

"He never took no for an answer," Lucifer says. "Just kiss him. That'll shut him up."

It sounds as if Lucifer knows from experience what works, and who'd Sam be if he didn't want to learn? He indulges for a while, kissing Gabriel until he gasps for air he doesn't need.

"Mmm, Kiddo, you really are something," Gabriel sighs, content. "Not that it made me _less_ interested in getting you out of those clothes. I could zap us back on The Moose..."

"Yeah, no." Sam nuzzles Gabriel's hair. "I'm going back to the bunker tonight." Sam has a lot to think about and he wants to sleep in his own bed, for once wanting the quiet, familiar environment. It seems like Lucifer and Gabriel have finally reconciled, with everything it entails, and it has changed everything. Lucifer has told Sam over and over that they are meant to be, but looking at Gabriel and Lucifer together, it's obvious that the same could be said about the two archangels. There is such ease to the way they are together, Gabriel with deep adoration for his older brother, and Lucifer just as protective of Gabriel as he is of Sam, although Gabriel in bed... Sam lets out a deep sigh that might or might not have been a moan at the mere thought. Although they have done nothing but some heavy petting, it's obvious who is going to be on top in bed. If Sam lets it go that far. The game of wooing certainly changed now that Sam's choices have narrowed down. One angel is a mouthful, no pun intended, but two?

"We're going to get you your other gift first," Lucifer says. "We're not sending you back just yet."

"Didn't think you would." The drive would have been in vain, otherwise. "Where are we going?" Sam asks for the twentieth time, not that he thinks that he's going to get an answer.

Lucifer turns the car down a dusty road, the Ferrari FF's four wheel-drive saving them a few times when they catch a pothole the size of the Mariana Trench. 

"Could use some maintenance, the road" Sam groans, sure his kidneys might have come loose. "Where _are_ we going? And couldn't you have moved us there?"

"I recall a certain someone complaining about being taken through space, angel-speed," Lucifer says. "I even got you this... thing." He waves his hand, indicating the car. "Why humans find them so fascinating is beyond me, but here we are. All for you, Sam."

"Sweet. Because an expensive Italian car is just what I needed."

"You're welcome. And I am so pleased with how grateful you are." Lucifer looks in the mirror at Sam. Sam can't seen Lucifer's mouth, but his eyes has sparkles of laughter in them. "I wonder what we can give you that really satisfies you."

Oh, Sam has an idea. Only not for now, maybe not ever. Oh, God, he is _so_ screwed. Separately Gabriel and Lucifer are big temptations, but together? Yeah, screwed. 

"You'll like this gift," Gabriel says, interrupting Sam. "And we're here."

Lucifer turns the car down a narrow driveway. There's a nice, medium-sized farmhouse behind a few naked trees, and a large barn. It's a nice place, although both house and barn could do with some paint.

"You haven't bought a house for me? No more houses. You promised." Sam opens the door, happy to get out of the car and stretch his legs. The wind is cold, and there is frost in the air, still it's better than sitting in a small Italian car meant for chihuahuas and people no taller than Gabriel.

"We bought a farm, but it's not for you as such." Lucifer gets out of the car. "Come."

They walk towards the front door, dogs inside barking, announcing their arrival. Someone inside opens the door, and two adult greyhounds and what seems like twenty puppies come running outside, bouncing and dancing and yipping, happy too see people, obviously made only for their sake. A brindle puppy throws itself at Sam's feet, and the one adult dog, slightly more apprehensive, examines Sam's hands, while a third dog, another puppy, is trying to untie Sam's boots. The other adult dog is jumping around Gabriel as if it knows him, whining and wagging, until Gabriel kneels, letting the dog snuffle him in the face.

Lucifer has picked up a fawn puppy, stoically accepting to have his ear washed thoroughly.

A woman and an older man come out to greet them. "Mr Alighieri, Mr Milton, welcome." The woman shakes hands with Lucifer. "And I assume this is the generous Mr Winchester? she asks, holding out her hand. I'm Ann Brown, the manager. This is Ian, our kennel hand."

"Yes. Er, nice to meet you." Sam has no idea what is going on. Before he can ask, the man solves the riddle.

"I can't say how happy we are to have received such a generous donation, Mr Winchester. We can build new and better kennels, maybe take in twice as many dogs. I wish we didn't have to, but with the recession, times sure ain't better for the greys. But since the rescue now owns the farm, and with the money..." The older man sighs, eyes sad. "I wish we didn't have to do this kind of work. But I'm babbling. Please, come inside, our rescue group is here, and everybody wants to thank you and Mr Novak and Mr Milton.

"They are probaby more excited than the puppies. You were lucky, by the way, we rarely have any puppies at all, we get all the throw-away dogs from the track, but Dinah — that's the bitch — has been very inventive and we didn't know she was expecting, so it was quite the surprise when she started gaining weight. Good thing that she only got five."

"The puppies?" Sam whispers, pulling at Gabriel's arm. "Why am _I_ lucky?"

"You're lucky we aren't taking eight," Gabriel says. "And you're lucky that you get to pick which one we are taking home."

Lucifer just smirks, handing Sam the fawn puppy. "Damn," Sam groans, getting puppy-kissed all over the face. He can't refuse. He would really like a dog of his own, and if Lucifer and Gabriel are co-adopting, it might even be possible. Sam is sure nobody can stand against those happy puppy-kisses, so he isn't even trying. Finally a gift that isn't too big (apart from the donation made in his name) or too much. It's just... right. Sam would _love_ to have a dog. If he survives, that is. Dean is going to _kill_ him. Oh, well. "Wait," Sam says, trying to prevent the dog from pushing its tongue up his nose. "Home? We? What home?"

"Oh _now_ he wants a home," Gabriel says, smirking. "It's up to you, sweetheart. Bunker, France, elsewhere. The Moose, even, though it might not be the best place for a greyhound. Anyway, your decision."

The puppy in his arms whines and looks at Sam with dark golden eyes, a bit like Gabriel's, same slightly calculating puppy eyes. "And you," Sam tells the puppy. "You are in on it, too. I can see it." Gabriel and Lucifer are a dangerous team, they are becoming increasingly difficult to refuse, and with the help of the most adorable puppy known to man? Yeah, Sam is screwed.

As it is, the puppy never leaves Sam's arms, and when they say goodbye, two cups of coffee and a lot of _thank yous_ later, 'the puppy' has turned into 'my dog', although Lucifer insists that it is Gabriel's and his, too. Sam suspects its mostly for show, even if Lucifer has promised to help Sam teach the puppy to do stuff that puppies do, preferably in the right places and at the appropriate times. 

By the time they are back at the Bunker, Puppy and Gabriel's small Jack Russell have become friends. It takes some time before Dean realizes that their family has gotten an addition. Judging from the look of it, and of the dazed expression on Castiel's face, Dean has other priorities than to complain about a dog. He merely glares at Lucifer, sends Gabriel a very tired look, pets the puppy on the head, and leaves with Castiel to do with him what angels do when they have finally gotten their human to understand what is good for them. 

No distraction like a needy angel. Or two.

Sam really has a spine of steel when he sends his angels off so that he can have as much peace and quiet as a small puppy is going to allow him.


	9. Nine Lords A-leaping

"Seriously?" Dean squints at Sam, pursing his mouth speculatively. "Just because Cas and I aren't going on a hunt, we have to take care of your dog?"

Sam does feel a little guilty, although he shouldn't. First of all, Puppy has already taught Dean to feed him at the table, scratch his belly when he rolls over and whines (Puppy, not Dean), and Puppy has taken Dean for a walk, staring at him intently, making him fetch the lead. Dean is a fast learner. "It would sound slightly more convincing if Puppy wasn't asleep in your lap," Sam argues. "It's just for a few hours. Lucifer promised."

"What is going on with you and those two bastards?" Dean asks. "I mean, Gabe is okay, especially when he isn't trying to kill me. But Lucifer?"

"Redemption. You know that."

"And you believe it?"

"Lucifer never lies."

"He's the _Devil_ , dammit!"

"Not any longer. Crowley is taking care of Hell."

"I know. But what the hell are they trying to accomplish? You come home every other day with the most insane gifts." Dean rubs Puppy behind the ear. "You just don't give people dogs. Or castles."

"I could have said no. I didn't want to. With Puppy, I mean. You know how much I wanted a dog."

"What about the boat and that trashy Italian car and... well, the parka isn't too bad." 

Puppy wakes up, yawning, distracting Dean. Puppy licks him on the nose, yawns again before he turns around three times and flops down to sleep on the other side. "And, okay, Puppy. Not... bad. Still, what are they doing? Do they think they can both have you? I mean, they are... you are... dating, right? Both of them? Just don't choose Lucifer, okay?"

"Erm," Sam says, feeling his cheeks heat up. "I guess you know about polyam—"

"Sam!" Dean's eyes widen. "Are you telling me..."

Sam takes a deep breath. He is glad he insisted that he needed to sleep alone, getting his thoughts in order. When he finally got to it, the decision wasn't that difficult. Gabriel and Lucifer love each other dearly, so much that they tried to kill each other for it, although the reason was a different one. Sam... he is still trying to gauge the depth of his feelings, but one thing he knows: he does not want to choose between the two angels he loves. No wonder it was so difficult when he was trying. He loves them for different reasons, in different ways, but one way is no better or deeper than the other. When all pretense has been peeled away, there is only Sam's love left, and he has enough for two. He has more than enough, because he loves Dean and Cas as well, and he is falling in love with his lanky, long-legged puppy. They are different kinds of love, but they are all valid.

"I'm telling you that love only grows with use," Sam says, "and I believe that you, too, are beginning to understand that."

Dean has the decency to blush.

"Oh, come on! The only one who didn't know was you, Dean, and only because you lied so well to yourself that you believed in it. Cas has been in love with you for years, and you sure weren't lagging behind much; a week or two, maybe. You love him, and you have loved him for a very long time."

"Shut up. None of your business!" Dean keeps his voice low as not to wake up the dog, judging from the way Dean looks at it. Sam suspects that Dean might be a sucker for puppy-eyes, too, and Puppy has learned from the best. "What Cas and I do when we're alone is so not your business."

Sam wonders whether Dean is so caught up in Cas that he doesn't even realize that half of the times when he and Cas are kissing they aren't alone at all. "You keep lying to yourself. And sure, I'll shut up. If you stay out of my relationship with Gabe and Lu—" Sam cuts himself off. It isn't a relationship. They are... seeing each other. Dating. Wooing.

"I'll stop lying when you do," Dean says. "I can see it, the way you are with them. So... both, huh? Just excuse me for not being extremely enthusiastic about it, Sammy. But we never really did the white picket fence thing well, so... I guess I'll pet your puppy while you're gone... to... where are you going?"

Sam doesn't bother denying or explaining what is going on with Lucifer and Gabriel because he can hardly explain it to himself, other than he wants them both and everything that comes with them. Maybe that's explanation enough. Still, it is not one he wants to share with Dean, not yet, not until they have all settled into the relationship that isn't a relationship. Not yet. 

"I don't know. But Gabriel made plans, so I fear for my life."

"If Gabriel planned it, I'd fear for _mine_ as well, to be honest." Dean shakes his head. "Now go away, I'm expecting Cas any time."

"Just don't scar my dog for life; he is still impressionable," Sam says and goes to pray for Gabriel to pick him up.

*

Sam should have known they'd get to him sooner or later. There has been kisses and petting and more kisses. They all know where it is going. This time Gabriel has showed remarkable restraint, hiring a group of show dancers, nine perfect young men, half-naked and oiled up for Sam to objectify. Sam appreciates the sentiment, suspecting that Gabriel likes the gift very much himself. Sam is going to strangle him if he looks at those boys funny. Sam wonders whether Gabriel knew that he'd be jealous, possessive. Probably. Not the classiest gift but maybe it works the way Gabriel wanted it to work.

The club is great, though. The drinks are cheap, the guys are hot and they know how to behave; maybe Lucifer has issued an edict on anyone trying to grope Sam's ass or something. Sam enjoys it, drinking and dancing and just... he stops thinking too much. 

The music is loud and the rhythm is slow and deep. The smell of sweat and aftershave teases Sam's nose. He leans back, pushing against the hips grinding against his ass, Lucifer's arms around him from behind. Sam breathes in Lucifer's scent, warm and so very _familiar_. Sam closes his eyes, moving with the rhythm, Gabriel's hands on his waist. Gabe has one leg between Sam's thighs. Lucifer's arms are naked, all he is wearing, apart from the skin-tight jeans, is a black tank top, tight like the jeans. Sam almost regrets that he can't look at Lucifer, appreciate the strong arms, the broad chest he is rubbing against as he moves to the music. 

Instead Sam lets himself be carried away, Lucifer guiding his movements when Gabriel rubs against them. Sam opens his eyes, arm around Gabriel to get him even closer. Sam moans as Gabriel rocks against his thigh; he is hard, smiling wickedly up at Sam. Sam caresses Lucifer's arm, enjoying the flex of muscles, the light smattering of hair, the warm skin. 

On stage, nine scantily clad dancers; leather and little else — Gabriel's less than classy gift for Sam — are performing their own sexy dance, a show that Gabriel has staged. Sam suspects that Gabriel had a blast, setting it up. Unfortunately — or fortunately, depending on how one looks at it — Sam isn't the least interested in the show dancers, not now, not when he's dancing in a crowd, Gabriel and Lucifer against him, touching him, kissing him. Sam sure is aroused; the only thing that keeps him from begging them to fuck him right there, on the dance floor is the fact that it'd be damned difficult to get out off his clothes. Sam is hard, rock hard. He doesn't think that he has ever been this aroused in his life, knowing that Gabriel and Lucifer want it as much as he does, with him, and with each other. 

There is nothing left but the music, the darkness, the want.

They are pulled under by the dark bass and the sensual rhythm. They are caught up in each other, suspended between 'want' and 'shouldn't'. Then Gabriel gets up on tip-toe, still swaying to the music, kissing Sam, Gabriel's dick sliding up against Sam's, barely there, separated by layers of clothes as they are. "I want to make love to you, fuck you," Gabriel tells him, his mouth so closes to Sam's ear that his lips brush over it. "I want to see my brother fuck you senseless. I want to fuck him when he fucks you. I want to see him worship you, giving you pleasure beyond anything you have ever experienced."

Lucifer seems to know what Gabriel is saying; he grabs Sam's hips, pulling him backwards a little too hard, hard enough for it to bruise, and Sam moans, knowing that he'll look at those bruises tomorrow, touch them, maybe jerk off to the memory of how he got them. "I'll do what Gabriel tells me," Lucifer says. "He'll want me to take you, make you forget that there is anyone in the universe but the three of us. I'll get off on it, my sweet little brother being all bossy and demanding. And most of all, I'll get off on you, finally giving in to us. Because you will."

"Yes," Sam groans, wanting all of it. "Yes!"

Sam's breath hitches as Lucifer pinches his nipple, Lucifer's lips hot on his neck. Lucifer is sucking at it, licking, biting until Sam squirms, distracted from Gabriel's touches. He wakes up from the trance Lucifer's kisses and promises have induced when Gabriel pulls his pants open, discreetly, one hand slipping down his boxer briefs, to wrap around his dick. 

"Fuck, Gabriel," Sam growls, but his outburst disappears, drowned out by the music. 

"Shhh," Lucifer murmurs in Sam's ear. "Better not draw attention. We don't want anyone to watch you when we make you come," he teases. "You'd like that, won't you? To come with Gabriel's hand around you and my fingers in your ass?"

"Yes." Sam thrusts into Gabriel's hand, hidden in the dark, shielded by Gabriel's body. Lucifer shoves a hand down in the back, harshly, but his fingers are gentle and smooth with some kind of oil. Sam doesn't know where Lucifer got it, nor how he slicked his fingers, but it doesn't matter. With Gabriel's hand on his dick, and Lucifer's fingertips brushing over his asshole, Sam is done for. The word 'no' has disappeared from his vocabulary entirely, and now he wants, God, he wants. The music's slow beat, the heavy bass, Gabriel's languid strokes, Lucifer's finger sliding into him... Sam floats with it all, letting his men take from him what they want, and he is giving it to them so very willingly. The rhythm of music turns into the rhythm of pleasure, a deep, throbbing heartbeat, desire getting its own sound; little, strained moans that resonate with the music, warm breath on Gabriel's skin, moans that get caught by Lucifer's mouth when they exchange kisses, Lucifer and Gabriel too.

Pressed between the two angels he wants so badly, Sam comes, Lucifer's strong arms keeping him standing as Gabriel takes him through ecstasy, the release long and drawn out, Lucifer's fingers working magic inside him. Panting, unable to stand by himself, Sam watches as Gabriel smirks and licks his come off his fingers, utterly satisfied with himself. Sam admits that Gabriel has good reason to feel satisfied with his performance; he has clearly spent millennia practicing, because Sam's legs are useless. He manages to tug himself in, still in Lucifer's arms.

"What do you want, Sam?" Lucifer asks, not letting go. "Tell us. We'll take you anywhere, give you anything."

"We want you," Gabriel says, taking Sam's hand, placing a kiss on it. "As much as you want us."

Sam knows he promised to get back to Dean and Puppy. He will. But there is something he needs to do first. Something he wants. 

He nods. It's a promise, although Lucifer and Gabriel do not know that. "Bed," he says, "and both of you."


	10. Ten Cocks A-crowing

"Whoa," Sam breathes, staring. He doesn't let go of Lucifer, or rather, Lucifer doesn't let go of him, which is more than fine. "That's, er, nice." 

It is. The bed is not a king. Nope, it's the pope, the god of beds. It is not gigantic, nor enormous. It is _monumental_. Room enough for Sam to stretch out, and room enough for two archangels, wings and all. Yeah, nice. A bed fitting for a château in France. A château anywhere, to be honest.

Gabriel appears next to Sam. Clearly he has used the second it has taken, zapping them from point A to point B, to change clothes. Gabriel is wearing nothing but a yellow robe that makes his eyes stand out, and his skin look tanned and kissable. Gabriel has a glass of Champagne in one hand. With the other, he drags Sam closer, looking up at him. "Kiss me," he demands, and Sam doesn't think that Gabriel wants to be contradicted, disobeyed or otherwise crossed. There is a light in his eyes, a sparkle that tells Sam that Gabriel has plans.

Far from refusing Gabriel his wish, Sam does as he's told, not that anything but a direct order could keep him from kissing Gabriel. Their lips meet, and Gabriel, playful, bites Sam's lip, sucking at his lower lip, smiling into the kiss. 

"Let Lucifer undress you," Gabriel says. "I want to see him worship you and show you how much he wants you." Raising an eyebrow in a wordless question, Gabriel waits. 

Sam nods his acceptance. "Yes, please." 

Gabriel sits down on the bed, leaning against headboard, determined to direct them. "Take your clothes off, Lucifer. _Before_ you help Sam." Gabriel raises his glass, taking a sip. "I want to see you get hard for him." Gabriel's orders make Lucifer take a deep breath, rubbing against Sam's ass. 

"Is he always this demanding?" Sam asks, trying to hide how nervous he is. It's not his first rodeo, but _two_ men, two archangels... yeah, he's nervous. He turns slowly in Lucifer's arms, needing a little time to prepare himself and calm down.

Lucifer presses a kiss to Sam's cheek before he steps back, looking Sam in the eye. Slowly he pulls off his tank top. Sam swallows. Lucifer is _hot_. 

"I let Gabriel indulge," Lucifer says, trying to hide a smile. "He likes it, and so do I, when he's all bossy. When we get tired of it, we switch." Lucifer dumps the top on the floor and unbuttons his pants. "Don't think Gabriel is going to wait long to see how aroused you make me," Lucifer purrs, sliding his jeans down over his naked and very hard cock. "I want you, Sam. Time without you moves very slowly. I wanted you for a very long time."

The need in Lucifer's voice makes Sam weak, and he steadies himself with a hand on the dresser. 

Ridding himself of shoes and jeans, Lucifer certainly is worth looking at. Sam can't wait to have access to all of him, without clothes, without reluctance, without doubt. "I want you too," Sam says, reaching for Lucifer. "I was stupid. I didn't see how I... how I wanted both of you. So that's it; I want you. And Gabriel." Whatever game it is they want to play with him, both his lovers, Sam is _so_ in.

Lucifer kisses Sam's hand, his lips touching the ring that Gabriel gave to Sam. "We're both yours, Sam, as you are ours if you give us your permission."

Sam thinks that perhaps the rings are more important than he thought. "You have it."

With Lucifer's arm warm against his back, Sam follows obediently because he wants to. Gabriel is watching them both hungrily, but silent. Sam feels like he is being led to an altar, a sacrifice to the god he worships. It is almost blasphemy, but it is so close to the truth that Sam suddenly feels even more nervous. Lucifer senses it. He embraces Sam from behind. "It's just Gabriel. Small, crazy guy, gives you horrible gifts." Seeing this comes from Satan, Sam cannot stop himself from laughing. His nervousness disappears in an instant. He can't really think about Lucifer and Gabriel like that, like divine beings that are above him or superior to him. Yes, Gabriel is a god (former), and Lucifer is Satan, (also former, or at least on leave), but they are also the guys Sam loves. They are equal. Love makes them equal.

Gabriel nods. "Let Lucifer help you into bed, Sammy. I promise we are going to be _very_ good to you."

Sam isn't in doubt. He is suddenly impatient, wanting to _know_ his lovers, their secret spots, their taste and their smell when they've made love. Oh, Sam has had a taste, but not enough. Lucifer pulls Sam's shirt off, warm hands brushing over his chest. Sam sighs, leaning back into Lucifer's embrace. Gabriel looks at them both as if he'd like to devour them. His stare is heavy with lust, and Gabriel's dick is hardening, too, twitching as Lucifer unbuttons Sam's pants from behind. 

Desire overtakes Sam again, soothing his nerves, finally letting him breathe and relax — as relaxed as he can get when Lucifer's hands are on him, fingers brushing across his stomach. Thumbs are teasing his hips until Lucifer places his firm hands on Sam's ass. His jeans are off before he can prevent it, not that he had any intentions in that direction, on the contrary. He steps out of shoes and pants without looking down because he's too busy focusing on Lucifer. Lucifer is discovering and rediscovering: a tongue in Sam's ear, fingers ghosting over his cock, Lucifer's dick firmly pressed between his buttocks. Sam is still open from Lucifer's fingers; open and strawberry-scented and slick. 

All the time, Gabriel is watching. He's hungry, eager, and yet quiet. The anticipation makes Sam shiver this time. Gabriel finally moves. He slides the robe down his shoulders, naked in a pool of yellow silk. He leans back against the headboard again. He reaches for Sam's hand. "On your knees on the bed," Gabriel says, tugging gently. "Let Lucifer pleasure you. I'll make sure you don't get bored." Gabriel's eyes are playful. He looks at Lucifer with so much love it almost scares Sam that he's going to be caught between them; the love is so intense it burns.

Sam sincerely doubts that he's going to be bored no matter what Lucifer does to him.

"I'd like to see you suck Gabriel off," Lucifer whispers in Sam's ear. "You have no _idea_ how hot that'll look, your pretty mouth wrapped around Gabriel's dick, seeing you make him come apart. He wants you so badly, Sammy; just as much as I do."

Sam makes a low whine. Gabriel doesn't _help_ ; instead he takes his own dick in hand, massaging it, smearing the drop at the tip over the head, looking Sam in the eye, eyes half closed in pleasure. 

"You'd like that, baby?" Gabriel asks, his voice rough, "to have my cock down your throat when Lucifer takes you from behind? Would you like me to fuck your beautiful mouth?"

Sam is sure that he doesn't have thoughts left to create enough brainpower to come up with a proper reply. He moans. That he can do, moan. Trying to regain some form of control, Sam leans back, pressing his ass against Lucifer's erection, reaching back to put his fingers in Lucifer's hair. Somehow it ends in an awkward kiss, messy and wet and with a lot of tongue, the sloppiness of it dirty and arousing. 

"Take me to bed," Sam begs. "I don't want to wait any longer." A second more is too long. Gabriel is alluring; he's fun and teasing, and Sam's sure that sex with him is going to be like that too. Lucifer is all fire and depth. On their own both his men are alluring, but the mix? Oh, yes. "Please, Lucifer?" 

Lucifer climbs in bed with him, his hands never leaving Sam's body, stroking, supporting, caressing. Sam simply lets go, floating on the constant stream of touches and kisses. He gets on his knees, ass in the air, Lucifer's fingers already in him, and takes Gabriel's cock between his lips, glancing up on him when he swallows as much of him as he's able. 

Gabriel makes an inhuman, weak sound, the sweetest little animal whine, all coherence lost, when Sam finally gives him what he has been longing for. Gabriel's skin is warm and soft and Sam licks at it hungrily, Gabriel's shallow thrusts and the heavy breathing that soon becomes moans is enough to guide Sam. Sam whines, too, when Lucifer pulls out his fingers. 

"Want," is all Sam says before he swallows down Gabriel again. It adds to the pleasure that Sam makes Gabriel squirm so easily. Gabriel buries his hands in Sam's hair, as if to prevent him from stopping. 

"Everything you need," Lucifer whispers, his words sliding along Sam's spine as he pushes inside, widening Sam's channel enough to make it a little painful and pleasurable at the same time. Sam makes a sob of arousal and completion, making Gabriel moan again.

"Slow, baby, take him slow," Gabriel says, looking up at his brother. Their hands meet on Sam's shoulders, fingers tangling. "I love to see you like this, Lucifer. You're so beautiful, all light and love and need."

Sam thinks — as much as he's able to think at all with Lucifer taking him from behind, Gabriel in his mouth — that Gabriel sees Lucifer's true form. It has to be magnificent. Sam makes a happy sigh; being desired and loved is just what Lucifer missed for millennia; now they are both giving him what he has been longing for for so long. It is a sensation of deep pleasure in itself. "I don't think... I'll last much longer," Sam groans, biting his lip, trying to distract himself. Lucifer's reply is a hard thrust into him, then another, and another. 

"Fuck!" Sam cries, moaning hoarsely. "Fuck... Luci... Oh, fuck!"

The slow, deep fuck is more than Sam can take. He is barely able to use his mouth on Gabriel. Sam has imagined this, taking two cocks at the same time since the moment he realized that chances were that he could have both Gabriel and Lucifer. Now that it is happening, Sam is whirled towards orgasm, far too fast. Gabriel makes delightful little moans, and Lucifer's breath on his neck, little licks and kisses along his shoulder blades, right were his wings would have been, had he been an angel... it is too much. Release is simmering, a white-hot feeling in his gut. "Gabriel," Sam pants, clutching at Gabriel's hips, "it's... I'm..."

"Stop," Gabriel commands, and Lucifer obeys instantly. 

Sam can do nothing but whimper — he is not going to beg, he really isn't. "Please... Gabriel, please," is what comes out of his mouth. 

"On your back," Gabriel demands, pulling out and flipping Sam over in an instant with the greatest ease. Sam lands on his back in the soft, cool silk with a gasp. "Spread your legs. Lucifer is going to fuck you good, baby, and I'm gonna fuck _him_ until we have you coming so hard you see stars."

The incredible strength and power housed in Gabriel's small body is still surprising. Gabriel doesn't need to say anything; Lucifer simply pushes Sam's legs apart and up, kissing him on the chest, on the neck. Sam hates being powerless. But he can stop his lovers with a word, and Sam hardens, getting off on the power it provides him with, one that has nothing to do with strength. It makes him strongest, because he can take his lovers down with a simple, 'no'. Sam's breathing is rough and deep, his thighs shaking. Sam wants Lucifer inside him again so that he can wrap his legs around him. And Lucifer positions his dick just right, Gabriel letting him slide down, slow, God so slow, into Sam. Lucifer slides in, easy, the pressure just perfect. Sam whimpers, needy, as Lucifer moves in him again, the angle perfect. Sam gasps, eyes closed, for a few seconds, only to have them snap open as Gabriel's slick hand encases his dripping cock. 

Gabriel is caressing him while Lucifer takes Sam's mouth. Lucifer hisses into the kiss, moaning deeply. Then the hand disappears and Gabriel gets on his knees behind Lucifer, his hands on Lucifer's ass, spreading him, pressing into him from behind. Lucifer's dick twitches inside Sam. Sam can feel it, how Gabriel moves, every push reverberating into him, forcing Lucifer deeper. 

"Move," Gabriel groans. "Move, Lucifer. Just... fuck... move!" 

Gabriel is working Lucifer's neck, sucking marks into the skin as Lucifer in turn pushes Sam's legs up far enough for Gabriel to grab them. Spread out for his lovers, Sam lets them take him like that; it's damned exhilarating to be held like that. Over him, Gabriel thrusts into Lucifer harder, faster, directing the pace. Slowing down for a moment, Gabriel pulls Lucifer back by the hair, taking a kiss from him before he is thrust forward on top of Sam, kissing him with the taste of Gabriel on his lips. 

The kiss and the weight of Lucifer's body, the deep thrusts that make the bed groan with them... it's too much. Sam comes, gasping for air, his cock caught between Lucifer and him. It's messy and perfect, and it's all Lucifer needs. He's losing it by the sight of Sam's pleasure, fucking himself on Gabriel's dick, slamming into Sam hard, fucking him faster. Gabriel grabs Lucifer's hands, forcing him down so that he can kiss Sam over his shoulder. Sam fights for air, still caught in pleasure. For a minute, Lucifer lies there and takes it, letting Gabriel and Sam kiss, groaning as Gabriel fucks into him. 

Gabriel comes first, his face contracted, eyes closed, his mouth wet and open. His moans are almost silent but the tremors shake the bed, the air warm, as if his body heat is enough to kick the temperature up a notch. "Damn," is all he gets out before he moves back, pulling Lucifer up. "Finish it," Gabriel says, gentle hands supporting Lucifer, "Look at Sam when you come inside him."

Lucifer makes a hoarse sound, moving again. Up on his arms over Sam, Lucifer is moving again, impaling himself on Gabriel's softening erection. Gabriel's semen is running down his legs, a slow trickle of oil and come. It's the hottest thing Sam has ever seen, ever done. Sam runs his fingers down Lucifer's shoulders, nails into the skin, little welts appearing on the pale perfection.

"Mhmm," Lucifer groans, but not moving away. Sam does it again, and from behind, Gabriel pinches Lucifer's nipples, harder than Sam would have cared for, but Lucifer likes it. Another moan, and Lucifer is done for. He slams in, moving Sam up a foot in bed, before he stops entirely, reaching back to pull Gabriel down with him on top of Sam. Then Lucifer thrusts in, lying caught between Sam and Gabriel, coming hard, his eyes closed as he moves only as much as Gabriel's weight allows him. Sam meets him, grinding hips, until Lucifer sighs and his body relaxes, his breathing slowing. 

With his face hidden at Sam's neck, they lie like that for some time, uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. Sam has absolutely no reason to move. The room smells of sex and semen, but that's how it should be. Sex is messy. Finally Gabriel kisses Lucifer on the back, caresses Sam's cheek and disappears. There are sounds from the bathroom, and Gabriel returns with damp towels. Lucifer is gone entirely. He slips out of Sam, limp, before he flops down on the bed, so relaxed that Sam finds it adorable. "Not much devil left in you now," he teases and helps Gabriel clean them up a bit, the hot towels leaving a pleasant cool scent of forest and grass on his skin.

For some time, Gabriel and Sam just look at each other, sharing a kiss or three, while they let Lucifer rest. Sam thinks he's asleep. They don't speak, but Gabriel kisses Sam's hand, just above the ring, and Sam knows it's a promise. They have promised each other this, and it's as good as an engagement. They belong together, and this is just the beginning. 

Lucifer stirs, turning over on his back. He looks up at both of them. "We should tell your brother."

"He knows." 

"No. We are wooing. We need to speak with him." Lucifer turns on his side, his back to Gabriel. He brushes his knuckles across Sam's cheek. "I do not think you would like us to ask him for your hand, but I'd like to adhere to some form of proper—"

"Oh, you mean before I get to bed with you and Gabriel the next time," Sam teases. "You're right. I don't want you to ask permission, but maybe we can—" Sam stops himself. He is about to agree to take both of them and sort-of-getting-married? "Maybe we could make an announcement, you know take him out to dinner or something. Ask Castiel, too." 

The answer is yes. Isn't it always with Lucifer? Sam gives up. It's so easy now, with the two of them. Fun and hot and serious and perfect. Sam leans in to take a kiss from Lucifer, before he lets Gabriel take the kiss he wants. 

"I'll come up with something," Gabriel says. "I'm the best when it comes to creating the perfect venue."

It makes Sam fear what Gabriel has in mind. He has to trust him, though. "I'm gonna kill you if you even think of fucking this up," Sam threatens. Trust. 

"I won't. I _know_ Dean." Gabriel slips his arm around Lucifer, grinning up at Sam. "Okay, so that's a plan. What do you suggest we do with the rest of the night? If you're out of ideas I have a couple I'd like to share with the both of you."

*

They make love until the sun stretches, pulling at the horizon with light fingers. Outside, the birds start their appraisal of the morning, the poultry farm surprisingly loud. Cocks are crowing loudly, far too loudly, the shrill and less than dulcet tones of their morning opera making it impossible to fall asleep.

Sam is worn out, utterly worn out. Broken. He is not getting out of bed. Ever. He's staying here, and Lucifer and Gabriel are going to feed him and take care of him for eternity. "Not moving," Sam groans, pulling the pillow over his head. "Somebody, please, shoot those live alarm clocks."

Gabriel has no mercy. He laughs and points out that Sam could have refused the château and that he has no one to blame but himself. There is that. He could have refused all Gabriel's and Lucifer's insane gifts, but he didn't. The thought of gifts makes Sam sit up so fast that Gabriel is almost shoved out of bed. 

"Puppy," Sam says, feeling really bad that he left his dog with Dean, despite Puppy's obvious affinity for him. "I need to go—"

"Got it. Get back to bed." Gabriel disappears for an instant, flashing back into sight — and bed — the Jack Russell perching on his shoulder and Puppy in his arms. "Done. Dean says hi. And he threatened me with a gun. I guess he didn't like me naked." Gabriel snaps his fingers, a luxurious dog bed appearing out of nowhere right next to their bed. "Just in case," Gabriel says and dumps both dogs on top of Sam. "I love my dog," he says, "but even I have my limits. More than kissing, and anyone who is not either angel or man is outta bed."

Sam's fine with that. He has enough energy left for a few kisses. He cuddles up with Gabriel; Puppy and the Jack Russell between them. Behind Sam, Lucifer is half asleep without really needing it, spooning them both and their dogs. 

Sam lets out a content sigh. Yeah, he'll wake up. At some point. Later. Much later. And when he does, he's going to kill those damned roosters. Each and every one of them.

They're having _coq au vin_ for dinner tonight.


	11. Eleven Ladies Dancing

"You _didn't_." It's the first thing Sam says. It doesn't surprise him. It's Gabriel. "You really think that Dean's buying it?"

Gabriel merely raises an eyebrow. Okay, so maybe he knows Dean well enough. Of course he's buying it. Sam stares at the blinking lights, garish and bright. _Angels and Demons_ , the sign says, incredibly unimaginative, at least for Gabriel. Also, it's very... Dean. And Cas. Sam huffs, not really able to be angry at Gabriel. Not when Gabriel's hand is in his, and the memory of a long night and a perfect day of lovemaking and just being together still lingers. It's so easy, and somehow Sam wonders if it feels that way, their threesomeness, because it's _right_. 

Gabriel squeezes his hand. "You angry with me, Samsquatch?"

No, Sam isn't angry, just a little worried. It's important to him that Dean accepts his relationship, but not a deal-breaker. If Dean is making a fuss, Sam isn't going to take it. The club that Gabriel delivered... it's going to make a nice distraction. "No. Not the worst thing you've come up with since you decided that you went courting. But I don't want Dean to—"

"Wait." Gabriel stops, looking up into the dark starry sky as if he's listening. 

"Angel radio?" Sam asks.

"Cas. They're coming. Let's go inside."

Sam looks for the dogs. Gabriel's dog and Puppy are running around between the trees, chasing each other; that's the brilliance of a Gabriel-provided environment: it's dog-friendly, a nice garden complete with a doghouse, no access to roads, and — if Puppy and the Jack Russell want it — dogs are allowed in the club. There's a nice little half-sized door, open, courtesy of Gabriel, that has 'Dogs' written on it.

The club is not too hot, nor too cold. It's the exact right temperature. The seats are perfect, a round leather sofa right in front of the stage, although Sam would like the sofa to be someplace else. But this is for Dean, so Sam is going to tolerate it. The music is loud, and despite the noise it's still possible to speak normally. There are advantages to strip clubs created by Gabriel. Sam would complain about the objectification of women, but it's a moot point, seeing that none of them are real. Also, Gabriel probably would laugh and make fun of him, and Sam is in too good a mood to have it ruined.

Lucifer steps out of nowhere with Cas and Dean. "We're here. Let's get the party going."

Dean stares at the setup. "Man, that's _awesome_! Where are we?"

Any replies to his question are forgotten as guests drop in from all sides and dimensions. 

Bobby is first, Pam and Ash in tow. "What have you boys been up to now?" he growls, pulling the cap off, then puts it back on. "If Lucifer ever again sets foot in my Heaven without warning, there will be bloody murder. I'm going to kick Chuck's ass for this, frigging idjit, he could have told me about the return of the prodigal son _before_ I had him standing in my yard. If I hadn't already been dead, I'd had a heart attack." Bobby sends Lucifer a cold glare. "Keep that in mind, boy, next time you come to invite me to a party."

Lucifer has the decency to look a little guilty, not that Sam for a moment believes that he actually is. 

There are hugs, and maybe Dean sheds a tear, pretending it is nothing. Ash hugs them all, and Pam cops a feel, making Gabriel laugh as he tells her that if only Sam and Lucifer would let him, he'd be happy to let her examine further.

"No!" Sam glares at Pam with little menace, only to hug her again. He doesn't cry at all, and the wetness at the corners of his eyes has nothing to do with it.

Jo and Ellen pops in, followed by Garth who has brought Kevin with him from God knew where, and Benny from Purgatory. Dean has forgotten about strippers and beer entirely in favor of the reunion with his lost family.

Castiel is quiet. He greets Samandriel and Inias, and the three angels go to sit down, happy to see each other, that much is clear; they are merely quiet about it.

Finally the guests are done greeting each other, and everybody go to sit around the round table. Beer, all sorts — craft, strange microbrews and the standard fare — appear on the table along with bottles of whiskey and tequila and trays with burgers and salads. Little containers with various snacks pop up from the table like lesser celandines in the spring. 

Somehow Castiel has moved from sitting with Inias to sit next to Dean, his arm around Dean's shoulder. Sam is next to them, Lucifer and Gabriel on his right. 

"So, what's the occasion?" Dean asks, glancing at the stage where a beautiful girl is making some artistic moves that Sam would think humanly impossible. But it's Gabriel's creation. Nothing is impossible. "And where are we?"

"Heaven," Cas says. 

"Yeah, I get that, I mean, look at the girl, but _where_?" 

"Heaven," Sam repeats, "as in Heaven, the home of angels and deceased friends and family."

"Right," Dean says. "Okay. Are we..."

"Nope, kiddo. It's a celebration," Gabriel informs him, from across the table.

Dean doesn't look extremely enthusiastic. "Did you know about this, Cas?"

"Only that Lucifer wanted us to participate in a celebration. I assume you are aware of the magnitude of such a request. It is _Lucifer_ asking us to go with him to visit Heaven, Dean."

"I guess he just forgot to mention the strippers, then? And Gabriel. Not that I mind." Dean grabs the bottle of Devil's Backbone in front of him and downs half of it before he burps and puts the beer back on the table. He directs his attention to Cas "You want any, baby?"

"I am not a baby. And I want..." Cas leans in and whispers in Dean's ear. 

"Casti _el_!" Dean looks scandalized. "I... All right. Fine."

Castiel looks triumphant. "Dean is my boyfriend," he says to no one in particular. "And he wants to have se—"

Dean strikes out, faster than a cobra, and slams his hand over Cas's mouth. "TMI, Cas!"

Sam looks from Dean to Cas and back again. Of course he berated Dean his ignorance of Cas's love for him, but damn, Dean is working fast when he finally gets with the program. "Boyfriend, huh?"

They've got the attention of the entire assembly, including the eleven lovely girls on stage. 

"Yeah. Anyone got a problem with that?" Dean asks halfway testily.

"What? Have you lost your mind?" Bobby growls. "Yeah, sure, we don't you to be happy."

"No, he hasn't lost his mind," somebody says. "Dean has clearly found it and picked it up. You have been in love with my son, Dean, since the moment you met him, and it was about time you admitted it."

Everybody turn and stare at the newcomer. The music stops. The strippers freeze. Everything freezes.

Lucifer and Gabriel stand. "Father," Lucifer says, apprehensive. "Thank you for..."

Sam breathes in deeply. Chuck is in the house, and he doesn't know what to do. God, he — or maybe he shouldn't use that expression right now — Sam threatened Chuck the last time they saw him. Now he's going to be his father-in-law. Twice. If Chuck doesn't strike them with lightning and brimstone for their less than conventional relationship. He reaches for Lucifer, clinging to his hand. Lucifer's grip is painfully strong, as if he, too, is nervous. The fragile relationship between Lucifer and Heaven is not yet strong enough to take the blow it will be if Chuck disapproves of Lucifer's and Gabriel's choice. Sam realizes that he doesn't even know whether Chuck had known about his angels' millennia-long love-affair.

"As if I'd stay away from my family when they are throwing an engagement party," Chuck says, somehow less God, and more Chuck, his slightly awkward fidgeting calming Sam. "With strippers. So, erm, congratulations. And commence! I know there are more announcements to come." He squints at Sam, a little nervously, looking away, then seemingly getting a grip. "I didn't write that," he says. "It's Lucifer's and Gabriel's story."

Sam breathes out and Lucifer relaxes his grip. Gabriel smiles so widely that Sam can feel it like a shift in the mood, like the physical action has an impact on the entire creation of his. So this is it. Lucifer caresses Sam's fingers, playing with the ring, like he wants to tell Sam without words, that no matter what, they are in it together, the three of them.

"You or me?" Gabriel asks. "Or Lucifer?"

"Me," Sam says; he knows that if Dean explodes when he hears that Sam's decision stands: he is taking both angels. Dean's anger better be directed at him. He can handle it.

Sam needs to get it over with. He only wishes that his family is able to share his contentment and joy that he has finally found love.

He stands. "First, congratulations, Dean. We've all seen it coming, like for the last five years, so well done, Cas!" There are cheers and people shouting their congratulations. Nobody questions the joining of a human and an angel. Good sign. "It was a surprise that Dean and Cas decided to make it official, but it sure saves time and phone calls. However," Sam says, pausing for a second, "this is not why we invited you tonight, although it's a cause for celebration in itself. No, we — that is Gabriel, Lucifer and I — invited you here to tell you that we..." Sam takes a deep breath. "Gabriel and Lucifer have courted me for some time. It sounds very formal, and it somehow feels that way, being wooed. So we decided to gather you all to... share my decision in a similarly formal way."

Again the club falls entirely silent. Everybody is looking at Sam, some with surprise, some with a knowing look — as usual Bobby seems to have almost clairvoyant knowledge. Dean knows, of course, that Sam has been dating both, but the final decision... not so much.

"I am not choosing between Lucifer and Gabriel. I take both," Sam says firmly. "Just as Gabriel and Lucifer have decided to continue the relationship that broke when Lucifer fell." He holds up his hand, the one that is adorned with Gabriel's ring. "We are in love, and I guess this is our engagement party. I just wish we could be more than fiancés. I suppose we'll have to make do with a match made in Heaven."

If it was possible that silence could be more silent, that would be the case right there and then. 

Then someone laughs, a rich and happy laughter. Pamela. "Oh, Sam! You crush my heart! Both my boys outside reach, and you get Heaven's cutest angels, too?" Pam gets up, a glass in hand. "To love and to getting more dick than anyone can possibly handle without divine intervention. Oh, and I forgive you, Cassie. Not a chance that I may watch you and—"

Bobby throws a peanut at her before she can end the sentence. It hits Pam square between the eyes, making her yelp. "Bobby!"

He gets up. "I can't say I understand your choice, but it's yours, Sam. And I'll say right now that if any of those two idjits ever hurt you, there will be hell to pay. So... here's to love"

Everybody gets up, raising their glasses. There's a toast that they can get behind. "To love!"

Sam lets out the breath he's been holding. Gabriel's arm is on his waist, and Lucifer is still holding his hand. He smiles, relieved. That's what he has now, in abundance. Love. Love and family. Sam can't remember the last time he felt so happy. "To love."


	12. Twelve Bells A-ringing (and a Party and Now They Are Three)

Sam wonders whether he is drunk or not. Gabriel's strip club is levels classier now than it was an hour ago. The dark and slightly grubby feel has changed, and the club has expanded, Sam is sure, because more guests have shown up and the room doesn't feel packed at all. The eleven strippers have turned waitresses, wearing substantially more clothes, probably much to Dean's dismay. Everybody and their Uncle Bobby are now lounging comfortably on the new round couches that the circular bench seat have sprouted. The music is low and pleasant, a mix of jazzy pop and some of the soft rock ballads that Dean likes. Sam finds himself humming along to Foreigners' _Wanna Know What Love Is_. Dean is probably halfway in love with Gabriel by now — if he wasn't so in love with Castiel that he doesn't see anyone but him, that is. Also, Sam would sure forgo his decision never to kill Dean as if Dean as much as covets for a second what belongs to Sam. Sam welcomes the hot burn of desire with a dash of jealousy that makes him want to get up and drag his lovers out of here. It's not that he is really jealous, he has no reason to be: his angels have fought hard and long to get them where they are now. Besides, between the three of them, who'd need to go elsewhere for love and sex and safety and more love?

Sam simply relaxes into the feeling, appreciating the moment of quiet as he watches his family.

Across the club, Dean and Pam are having a shot-drinking contest with Charlie and Dorothy. Castiel is staring at Dean, entirely besotted with his beloved. Jo and Benny are hitting it off big time in a kind of big brother-little sister way. Benny is wiping the floor with Jo, though; who knew he'd be so good at shooting pool? Crowley is flirting with Balthazar. Sam wonders who the fuck had the audacity to invite Crowley. Gabriel is probably to blame for that one; Lucifer would never sink as low as to ask him to their party. There is no love lost between Satan and his viceroy. Anyway, Crowley has left his kingdom for a while, and Sam will sure be happy to see him going back. Balthazar and Crowley are more than hitting it off; if Sam never again sees Balthazar's open shirt and Crowley's hands-on approach to Balthazar's naked chest, it'll be too early. 

On Sam's lap, Puppy stretches and yawns, tired and worn out. Endearing himself to everybody (and _especially_ their Uncle Bobby) has taken its toll, and the dog is curled up, asleep, once in a while acknowledging his slave and food-provider with a lick or a slight wagging of the long tail before he goes back to his nap. Who'd have thought that greyhounds were total couch potatoes, cozying up and demanding belly rubs? Gabriel's dog has conked out under the table, using Sam's foot as a pillow, which, together with Puppy's appropriation of Sam's lap, prevent him from moving. 

So Sam watches, and what he sees makes him happy. It's a feeling that fills him, this bubbling sensation of joy and peace and contentment. Okay, most of his family is staying here, in Heaven, when he leaves, but seeing them all again is wonderful, and when he and his angels go back below, Sam knows that the people he care about are safe and happy up here. Gabriel and Lucifer might be oblivious to the interpretation of Christmas carols and finer nuances of gift-giving, but this, allowing him to be with people he loves, is the best gift Sam can think of. He will remember this day for the rest of his life, knowing that he has this to look forward to - this, and eternity with his lovers. 

That'll be heaven, better than the heaven that Sam had originally created for himself. And Sam is damn sure he's going to do everything he can to end up _here_ , not prematurely, though, as far from Hell as can be, because he'll have to dig out his eyes with a dull spoon if he is doomed to eternity, watching Crowley's tongue slip down Balthazar's throat.

Sam ignores the King of Hell and his conquest in favor of studying Lucifer. He is having a deep conversation with Chuck. It is strange to see Lucifer so... subdued, as if he truly respects his father. Sam doesn't find it it easy to wrap his mind around that — that the slightly neurotic writer is actually his father-in-law. At least Gabriel and Lucifer haven't been turned into pillars of salt or anything, so maybe polygamy isn't particularly strange to Chuck — not that Sam would feel above reminding Chuck of Mistress Magda if he is going to be difficult. And there's King Solomon and his seven hundred wives if Mistress Magda fails. Compared to Solomon's excesses, being with two archangels is barely above the norm. Well, not counting the archangel part, obviously. 

"You having fun, kiddo?" Gabriel returns to his seat, bringing a large glass of something that looks like crushed strawberries and milk. There's a mint leaf on top. It smells fruity and refreshing and Sam takes it without hesitation. Everything they have been served tonight has tasted delicious, as if it has been tailor-made to everybody's exact taste and craving at the exact moment. Probably not very far from the truth.

"Yeah. It's... I mean, it's everybody I care for. And Dean is happy, I am happy. Our dogs are happy." He takes a sip of the strawberry milk. The taste of fresh, sweet strawberries and ice cold, fat milk make him take another. "What time is it? If inner watch is right, it's seven in the mor—" Sam stops, mouth hanging open. "It's Christmas!"

"So it is, baby. And this year we'll make sure that it's your best Christmas ever."

Sam looks at Gabriel in deep adoration. Of course he would know, just like Lucifer does, that Christmas always had been a difficult time, both for him and Dean. He doesn't want to talk about it, though. Instead he directs the conversation into shallower waters. "Why am I not tired?" Sam should have felt busted, having had little sleep the night before, something he certainly doesn't regret.

"Location, location, location, Sammy." Gabriel smiles at him, tenderness in his eyes. Gabriel might be... Gabriel, but he understands Sam so well — when he wants to.

"I think whatever Heaven does to humans, it isn't as efficient with dogs," Sam says, looking fondly at their sleeping pets. "Although they're not complaining much."

Gabriel rubs Puppy behind the ear, something that doesn't move the dog to wake up. "My father has a gift for us."

Sam is sure his eyes are the size of teacups. "So he doesn't plan to cast us out of Heaven for our sins and—"

"Seriously?"

"No." Sam laughs. "That's not how he is, is it?"

"Nah. Besides, he's a little afraid of you. And he'd have to leave Heaven too, as not to appear a total double standards douche in that case. I think he forgot to tell Becky about Magda."

Sam might or might not be a little satisfied that he has managed to scare Chuck. And he might or might not be a little scared that it might have consequences that he threatened him. Unfortunately Chuck's imagination lacks nothing. "Its not anything... porny?"

"Don't sound so hopeful, baby, you're just going to get disappointed if you'd hoped for naked men in compromising situations — except if you were thinking of Lucy and me, but I think we're keeping that for when we're alone."

"I can't express how much I appreciate that particular decision," Sam says, slightly acerbic. "As long as I can accept whatever it is in front of my family and not feel totally humiliated." Sam isn't entirely convinced. After all, Gabriel has been humiliating humanity for a millennium. He might adhere to different standards.

"In this case, I promise you on all that's holy, and on my love for you and Lucifer, that you can decline the offer. And it is not anything weird. At least not that kind of weird."

"Fine. Should I—"

"We need Lucifer, too. Outside." Gabriel stands. "Come on." 

Puppy decides it's time to wake up, and he gets up on long legs, slinking down from the couch, slightly wobbly and yawning. The light in the club changes and turns brighter. Across the room, Lucifer gets up, too, Chuck at his side; clearly the archangels and their father have a plan.

Lucifer raises his hand. "Honored guests!"

The noise dies down and all attention turns to Lucifer.

He raises his arms. "I would like you to come with me to watch the morning star rise."

"Show off," Gabriel whispers into Sam's ear. "Father, he is enjoying this too much."

Sam suppresses a grin. Somehow he doesn't begrudge Lucifer a moment to shine. Around them their guests get up. 

"Father, if you will?" Lucifer says, stepping aside, defiance flickering across his face so briefly that Sam thinks that he and Gabriel might be the only ones who see it. Lucifer might be redeemed, but he is not tamed.

"He's not going to do something stupid, is he?" Sam whispers back.

"After having fought to get you for so long, and sacrificed his pride? I don't think so, baby. Also, he knows I'm gonna kick his ass so hard if he tries anything. His priorities have changed, Sam."

Sam knew that, he doesn't doubt for a second Lucifer's love for them. But Lucifer is still Lucifer, and deep down, Sam likes that, despite the danger. He fell in love with Satan, not a pale copy of him, not a tame and subdued angel with broken wings. If there's a little bit left of the Devil... Sam is strangely fine with that. Between Gabriel and he, they sure are able to keep Lucifer on the straight and narrow.

Chuck steps up and pushes the doors open. Bright light and chill winter air meet Sam, blinding him for a few seconds as they walk outside, their dogs sneezing and yapping. Under Sam's feet the ground creaks. Snow! Then the bright, clear air is filled with the sound of bells. Eyes getting used to the bright light, Sam looks across the heavenly road, only to find a beautiful little church, looking exactly like a Christmas card he remembers from his less than holiday-cheery childhood.

Lucifer steps up to them, taking Sam's hand. "My father wanted to give you the perfect Christmas morning." 

Gabriel takes Sam's other hand, squeezing it, saying nothing. Maybe there is more to come. There is electricity, tension, anticipation in the way Lucifer and Gabriel act.

Chuck fidgets for a moment, turning around to watch the assembly, a piece of paper in his hands. He unfolds it, looks at it for a second before he gets a grip and puts it away. He reminds Sam of a forgetful older relative, giving a speech at a party. Which is sort of spot on. 

"My sons have chosen their path," Chuck exclaims as the Christmas bells fall quiet. "They have wooed Sam Winchester and won his heart and his acceptance. I created humanity, I gave them free will, and sometimes their actions make no sense to me. "Marriage..." Chuck pauses. "Marriage between two angels and a human, or marriage between three people who have chosen to love each other until the end of times are confusing to many, but not to me. For behold! Now abides faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love!" Chuck looks from Lucifer to Gabriel. "My sons. You have given Sam gifts - eleven days of small gifts, and great, and today you will give him the most precious gift of all: love!"

Sam is deeply touched. His relationship with the two men he loves has been accepted, his love for them has moved Heaven itself. 

Without letting go of Sam's hand, Lucifer turns and kneels in front of Sam. Sam breathes in, then out, calming himself. On his right, Gabriel does the same. Both on one knee in front of him, Gabriel and Lucifer join hands, too. They look at each other, Lucifer's smile triumphant, Gabriel's soft. 

"I love you, kiddo. I want to be with you until the end of times," Gabriel says, caressing Sam's hand. "And you, beloved brother. We were created a very long time ago. We have fought and conciliated, and I want nothing else than spending my eternal life with you and Sam. I love you."

Sam can feel the tears burn in his throat and joy flare in his heart. 

Lucifer nods. "And I... I fell, and now I have strength to stand. With your hand in mine, Gabriel, I stand proud, taking back my place as the angel of light, stronger by the aid of your love. With your hand in mine, Sam, my beloved, I stand proud, but not without compassion. You have taught me that love is not possessive, love is free. It is given freely, and cannot be imposed on anyone. I love you and I love my brother until the end of times. I give myself to you and to Gabriel, if you will have me.

Now Sam is crying openly, tears of joy and love welling up in his eyes. "Yes," he manages, before he has to pause, the feeling of love overwhelming. "Yes!"

"Human laws are not above my law," Chuck says. "Not today. Behold!" Chuck points at the church. The doors open, and a man in black cassock steps out on the snow-covered stairs. 

"Pastor Jim!" Sam whispers, tears threatening to take over again at the sight of the kind hunter and priest. Behind him, Dean echoes Sam's words. Lucifer and Gabriel get up, arms around Sam's waist. "Oh," Sam breathes, looking from one lover to the other, lost in all the love. 

"Not done," Gabriel says. "Look."

Next to Pastor Jim, a blond woman in a white dress appears. There is a happy smile on her face that makes the sun pale in comparison. Sam knows her, although he never got to know her when she was alive.

"Mom?" Sam takes a step forward, almost stumbling, but Lucifer and Gabriel have him. "Mom!" A warm kiss from Lucifer and a hand on his butt distracts Sam enough to calm down. He laughs; Gabriel's cheek is incredible. It's too much, it's overwhelming. It's the best gift he'd ever had, the most wonderful morning in his entire life, his happiness as bright and clear and brisk as the morning.

Chuck demonstrates remarkable calm. He steps in front of the assembly once more, looking pleased and relaxed. "I say unto you, what I have joined together, let not man put asunder. Sam and my sons have chosen each other. They have made a vow. Now let's go get them married so they can return to Earth with my blessing!"

For once, Sam has absolutely no problem with Chuck's part of the story. None whatsoever. 

Above them, the Christmas bells start ringing again, heralding the arrival of Christmas, and of the everlasting feeling of love and perfect happiness. Sam has never been given a better Christmas gift in his life.


End file.
